


My Life, My Love and My Lady is the Sea

by Sleepy_lil_hyena



Series: Ahriman Martyr AU [5]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Aftercare, Ahriman Martyr AU, Also implied piss kink, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Bratting, Breakfast, Canon Bisexual Character, Condoms, Conversations, Cunnilingus, Cute, Daddy Kink, Disaster bi Harper, Dom/sub, Dorks in Love, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Fluff and Smut, Fondling, Hand Jobs, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sex, Literal Sleeping Together, Loving Sex, M/M, Morning After, Not Beta Read, Older Woman/Younger Man, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Sort Of, Urination, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_lil_hyena/pseuds/Sleepy_lil_hyena
Summary: Two years after leaving Station 17 for New Cairo, Harper, Blossom and their boyfriend Looker are living in a cozy apartment while they start up their bookstore/coffee shop. One chilly autumn morning, however, Blossom and Harper return home from a long night at the Stardust Cafe to find Looker has indulged in a hookup. His paramour isn't any ordinary woman, though...she's the goddamn EPG Fleet Admiral, Mermista. Contains heavy spoilers for the not yet finished Escape From Station 17.
Relationships: Harper Meowmeow/Blossom Andromeda/William Arthur "Looking Glass" Glass, Mermista/Original Characters
Series: Ahriman Martyr AU [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870384
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Anchor-faced

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks! I'm still alive, much to my university's doubtless chagrin. Escape is still being worked on but is on a bit of a temporary hiatus because of how heavy it is to work on combined with how rough life is right now. I kind of just want to do fun gay shit right now, not angst or drama. So Escape is sort of going to be less of an origin story for my little OC disaster bi polycule and more a prequel to their various misadventures which may or may not show up here when I'm not having my skull caved in by various academic readings pounding against my hippocampus like a rusty 9-iron. That said, I hope you enjoy Harper, Blossom and Looker's first foray and their bizarre dalliance with a special guest star. And yeah it's gonna get smutty as fuck. Duh. It's me we're talking about here, and I own beachfront property in Horny Jail. 
> 
> Bisexual cat femboy rights! 
> 
> S_L_H

“You got everything, Bloss?” Harper asked, throwing his overnight bag over his shoulder as he dislodged it from the back of the van. 

“I travel pretty light, Meowmeow. I think I’m good,” Blossom laughed, producing her more modest bag from under the passenger side seat. 

“Did you even bring a change of clothes?” the ginger magicat asked, fiddling with the drawstrings on the pink cropped hoodie he got from Dee. 

“Dude, you know I didn’t. If I had, you would’ve seen me in ‘em by now,” Blossom was still laughing mockingly, shutting the van’s door and starting for their New Cairo apartment, “We were literally in the same bed.” 

“Th-that’s fair, yeah. I just assumed you...I dunno, were too lazy to put ‘em on or something,” Harper shrugged. 

“You’re an idiot, Meowmeow.” 

“You know I know what that actually means now, right? C’mon, tell me how you really feel,” Harper teased. 

Blossom blanched for a moment, her olive cheeks temporarily pinkish under her thick spectacles, before grabbing her lover and reeling him in. She kissed him gently, a kiss befitting 7AM in the morning, her breath still faintly of their house blend back at Stardust Cafe. That, and cake donuts. Harper made sure to let the tender moment drag on for as long as Blossom would let him, his hands running through the back of her messy silver undercut. He sighed when she finally pulled away, already missing her somehow. He didn't even care about the coffee breath, she was all he ever wanted regardless. Well, her and one other person, but still.

"Harper…" Blossom took a deep breath and rolled her eyes, "...I love you." 

"Better," Harper smiled, his voice breathy and swooning, "And I love you too." 

"Are you ever gonna not be a dork about those words?" Blossom asked, heading back to the apartment again with a small, altered detail. Her hand was in Harper's; she never would've let him get away with that two years ago, and he was savouring it. 

"Not a chance," Harper teased, smirking. 

"What have I done?" Blossom groaned in sarcastic dismay.

"Could be worse, I could say it while blowing you again." 

"That's not a bad thought, actually." 

"What? Really?" 

"Yeah. I mean, I won't lie, it was definitely ridiculous and I almost walked out of the club then and there, but I also thought it was kinda cute," Blossom giggled and then sighed, "I'm sorry for playing with your emotions like that, though." 

"Aww, hey, it's alright. I was a pretty big jerk, too. If I'd known what I know now, I wouldn't have acted nearly as weird about everything," Harper shrugged, “I stand by my humble opinion that Entropy-- _ heh, what a stupid name _ \--was,  _ is,  _ a bastard, though.” 

“Oh, irredeemably. Hope he gets his tiny dick cut off in prison,” Blossom spat. Harper felt her shudder at the memory of N, and he felt more than a little remorseful at even bringing him up; he knew his memory was shrouded in trauma for Blossom, and even if he was serving a sentence at the penal colony on Beast Island, the pain lingered. 

“I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over that, Bloss,” Harper chuckled. 

“Damn right, babe,” Blossom gave Harper’s hand a squeeze.

The two young lovers pounded across the frigid tarmac back to their apartment, the morning autumn air faint with frost and new beginnings and all that good--albeit cold--stuff. Contrary to its namesake, New Cairo was a settlement that got hit hard by the colder seasons and experienced the warmer seasons fleetingly. It suited Harper and his poly pals just fine, however, being something of an up-and-coming urban nexus in the EPG, one where everyone was trying to get away from something and start fresh. He and Blossom’s fresh start had been pretty wonderful so far, and the new apartment was just one small part of that. 

The rent on the place was pretty modest for New Cairo; comparing the price to Station 17 would’ve likely made it look steeper, however, but that may have been to be expected. The building was made of a mix of red and beige bricks, divided up into roughly four sections with Harper’s polycule scoring the largest. As they descended the steps around the side of the house, heading straight for their particular apartment, Harper genuinely felt a teeny bit of giddy excitement about entering his abode; it was his own little living space even if it wasn’t the fanciest, and it was his to share with his girlfriend, boyfriend, and corporeal alien cat entity.

That was the other thing. He’d spent much of his young adulthood wishing he and Blossom would finally make things ‘official’, that he’d get that coveted title and in turn so would she, and in a way they finally were. He’d show up to family gatherings and friends’ parties holding her hand, occasionally coming out of the guest bedroom or upstairs bathroom with a neck riddled in love bites and cherry lipstick stains. There was still that fluidity, that freedom that Blossom felt she needed accommodation for however, not to mention the two of them found a pretty awesome boyfriend in Looker. Ethical non-monogamy felt almost too good to be true, giving them equal opportunities for affection and liberation; the three of them were the perfect polycule, a trio of kinky bisexual disasters loving and supporting each other--and sometimes other folks too--as much as they could. Harper really lucked out in the end, and he was pretty sure Blossom and Looker did too. 

The two of them made their way through the front door after Blossom fumbled with her keys for a few chilly moments. It was a pretty morning, but Harper was raring to get out of the sharply cold air. Inside, however, it was nice and warm; whether the warmth was the work of Looker having turned the thermostat up or merely an illusion created by the crimson-painted walls, neither Harper nor Blossom could discern. Blossom slipped out of her tall mom’s purple tanker jacket while Harper untangled the  _ Doctor Who  _ scarf around his neck, just under his hood. The strawberry blonde-maned magicat was about to let Blossom know what he was going to do next, only to find himself getting interrupted by a rubbing feeling on his shins. Looking down, he saw his faithful alien cat companion, meowing eagerly. 

“Melog! Buddy! How are you?” Harper squealed as he bent down to pet Melog’s soft red fur, “Did Looker forget to feed you again?”

“His dish doesn’t look super full. One night without the usual kibble won’t kill him, though. Hopefully,” Blossom came over and scratched Melog’s ears lovingly, prompting Harper to step out of the way. He had to get going soon anyway. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t top your bowl off, though! Isn’t that right, my sweet, precious baby boy?” 

“You two are adorable,” Harper laughed. 

“What? I didn’t have pets growing up, okay? Also, he is the  _ cutest!  _ Yes you are, Melog! Yes you are!” Blossom continued cuddling the polycule’s pet cat-thing, still using her squishy voice. 

"Alright, alright, you keep bonding with him, then. I, for one, have really had to pee for like an hour," Harper admitted nervously, heading upstairs to the bathroom. 

"Hey, even those among us with ginormous First One bladder capacity need to answer the call of nature sometimes," Blossom teased, "Though I would've guessed it would be...oh, I dunno…not  _ quite  _ as often with you."

"Shut up," Harper rolled his eyes, descending the stairs, "I get it from cat mom." 

"Oh, no, I've been on road trips with your cat mom. It's not  _ nearly _ as bad as her, trust me." 

"Thank the First Ones." 

"Okay, well you have fun, babe!" 

"Be a lot more fun with you around…" 

"That's an enticing thought for sure, but I should really feed Melog. I will  _ definitely  _ give that some thought for later, though." 

"Duly noted! See you in a few. Make sure my fur baby is good and fed.” 

“Damn right! He shall feast!” 

Harper ascended the stairs further and made a beeline to the bathroom, the second door from the staircase between the guest bedroom and the polycule’s bedroom. Letting the bathroom door swing shut behind him and not even bothering with the lock, the catboy hurriedly unzipped his jeans and spent a pretty ridiculous amount of time urinating. Even with the aforementioned First One-sized bladder, Harper felt like he was holding a whole lake worth of excess fluid and it felt very good to be free of it. As the last little bit of his piss dribbled out of his hose and he enjoyed a quiet, relieved moan, however, his eyes absentmindedly fell on the waste basket beside the toilet. There was a pallid object, oblong and balloon-like in its shape and texture, sitting utop the stack of waste paper and discarded razor blades. The ginger magicat felt as if he had to do a double take to confirm the nature of such an object, but eventually the conclusion remained the same as the first impression: that was a condom. 

Yes, it was unmistakable. One off-white, phallic-shaped latex sheath, still ever-so-slightly drippy with leftover spunk. The sight of discarded birth control of unknown origin would perhaps be a cause for alarm in a monogamous household, but not so much with Harper’s crew. He’d had his fair share of side hookups in his time, so if Looker had scored one such encounter while he and Blossom were tending to the business that was cool. Hell, Harper would probably congratulate his boyfriend on the dalliance once that blotter machinist woke up. Still, the trio usually kept each other informed about their hookups, so it just came out of left field.

Flushing the toilet, washing his hands and heading back downstairs, Harper found Blossom sitting at the polycule’s minimalistic, steel kitchen table nibbling a toaster waffle. Melog was happily crunching away on some fresh kibble from his dish, adjacent to the sink and cupboard array. Harper figured he’d break the news to his girlfriend, always excited to see her reaction to any new and recent dalliance. 

“So, uh, Bloss…” Harper almost giggled, grinning like an idiot. 

“What? What’s that look?” Blossom asked through a mouthful of waffle, “Must’ve been a really nice piss, babe.” 

“I...Well, it definitely was, b-but, I mean, that’s not what the look’s about,” Harper cleared his throat, "There's a  _ condom _ in the bathroom, babe." 

Blossom suddenly looked puzzled. 

"So? We probably just left it there and forgot about it. Plenty of those lying around in this household," she explained, confused. 

"N-no, like...a  _ used  _ condom, Bloss." 

“Oh.  _ Oh! _ Well, I mean, I don’t think it could’ve been one of ours. You’d think we’d remember something like that.” 

“You think maybe Looker...y’know…” Harper put his thumb and index finger together, taking the opposing hand’s index finger and prodding the newly-created circle. 

“That’d be the logical conclusion, wouldn’t it?” Blossom took another bite of her toaster waffle, “Why, you jealous?” 

“No, of course not, it’s his decision, I was just pointing it out. I’m probably gonna give the guy a hug or something to congratulate him. Assuming he ever wakes up, that is,” Harper explained. 

“Damn, he’s  _ still  _ asleep? Must’ve been a rough night,” Blossom’s voice remained serious but the half-scorpioni punk was wearing a smirk, like she was holding in a laugh. 

“With Looker, when is it not a rough night?” Harper sighed longingly. When he came out, he came out  _ hard _ ; one day he was convinced he was completely and utterly heterosexual, the next he was fawning over boys--well, usually just one specific boy--like it was going out of style. Oh First Ones, was he the embodiment of ‘disaster bi’. 

“This is true. Well, at least two of us got some sleep,” Blossom shrugged, letting out a dry snort. 

The continued antics of the two childhood friends, present-day lovers and full-time up-and-comers in the queer bookstore/cafe biz were temporarily interrupted by movement upstairs. It seemed like every floor in the EPG was squeaky, like it was almost the law; the floors were squeaky in Harper and Blossom’s old Station 17 bunkers, the floors were squeaky in their families’ topside houses, and the floors were most definitely squeaky here in their apartment. The stairs started to squeal like the world’s most out-of-tune orchestral brass section, accompanied by the faint sound of a dulcet voice grumbling softly in a rural Etherian accent. Harper’s tail began to perk up and swing ever-so-gently, and his silver-haired punk girlfriend audibly laughed at the display. He really loved his--their--boyfriend, what could he say? Assuming that even  _ was  _ Looker on the stairs in the first place; the voice sounded enough like him, but it seemed plausible that he’d maybe taken home some other sexy southerner to plough their fields. 

“Mornin’, Peach.” 

Harper’s eyes went straight to the staircase, knowing both that voice and that particular nickname anywhere. Looker stood at the bottom of the stairs, blue skin looking almost shadowy in the grey glow of the autumn morning. The ex-Royal Army blotter mechanic stretched his arms overhead and yawned, his lean-yet-rigid abs showing as his threadbare tank top lifted a few inches. If Harper’s tail was twitching a little before, it was full-stop wagging now. He felt himself blush slightly and try desperately--vainly--to avert his verdant irises, accompanied by a teasing laugh from his other lover. 

“Oh, uh, good morning, hun,” Harper squeaked. 

“Still gettin’ all worked up over me, huh, sugar?” the sleepy blotter teased, yellow eyes squinted in amusement beneath his mousy tangle of hair. 

“W-what? I dunno what you mean,” Harper giggled, playing with his hair ever-so-slightly. 

“Better get used to it, Glass. He’s a total dork. Speaking from many years of experience,” Blossom laughed. She finished the last of her waffle, dabbed her mouth with her jacket sleeve and rose up from the table. “Want coffee? I’ve got a hankering for a second cup.” 

“Well, I would, but you always make it too strong,” Looker ribbed his girlfriend playfully, almost a law of the relationship. All that teasing led to a lot of angry sex. 

“Pussy,” Blossom grumbled, brushing past Harper before heading to get the French press out of the nearby dish cupboard, “You want any, kittycat?” 

"I mean, if you're offering. Didn't plan on spending my whole morning peeing, though," Harper joked. He took the diuretic effect of caffeine notoriously hard. 

"Ah, come on, live a little," Blossom spooned some grounds into the press. Feeling like he may as well speed the process up, Harper picked up the shiny silver kettle, checked how hefty it was, and surmised to fill it with water. 

"Y'all sleep okay? Hope you didn't overwork yourself over at the coffee shop...er, I mean bookstore...I mean--" Looker stuttered, trying to decide on the right term for his poly pals' up and coming business. 

"Well, in proper bisexual fashion, both work," Harper laughed as he cranked the stovetop burner beneath the kettle on. 

"Oh my First Ones, how did I never think of that? The opportunities for stupid bi jokes, guys! They will be  _ without number _ !" Blossom cried with played-up enthusiasm, "Anyway, yeah, no, things were pretty great. We were up late unpacking boxes of donated books, serving those last few customers...ended up sleeping on the old mattress in the back, surrounded by all these dusty second-hand paperbacks. It was kinda magical, honestly. Right, babe?" 

"Oh, for sure! Yeah, reminded me a lot of when we first started up Stardust, getting the place ready to open and stuff," Harper smiled, bleary and nostalgic. 

"Sounds real cute, you two. Glad the place is treatin' you well," Looker popped his head into the fridge, his scaly tail raised in curiosity, before deciding seemingly that nothing appealed to him and shutting the door, "Wish I could say the same, but I'm afraid I didn't do much sleepin' last night." 

Harper had to stifle a laugh. He exchanged a blink-and-you'll-miss-it knowing glance with Blossom, the two of them full well aware of what their boyfriend meant. There was an unspoken agreement in that moment, however, of not addressing the lewd elephant in the room. The two were going to humor him a little here. Just letting the whole thing play out naturally, watching the magic of Looker the southern lizard casanova play out. 

“Oh? More insomnia? I’m sorry, baby. You okay?” Harper asked. It seemed as if some of Dee’s thespian skills had rubbed off on Harper; he didn’t feel like that sounded fake in the slightest. 

“Yeah, you good, dude? You’ve been doing the meditation my moms recommended, I hope,” Blossom sounded even more believably concerned. Hell, she sounded downright distraught; the half-scorpioni punk always did wear melancholia well, perhaps a side effect of her rough spots two years ago. 

“No worries, Desert Rose. I’m on top of it. Thank you kindly for your concern, though, the both of you,” Looker smiled slyly, looking very proud of himself, “No, I was losing sleep over...ah, let’s just say I had company to entertain.” 

And there it was. 

“Oh! Uh, awesome! Th-that’s so, uh,  _ cool,  _ Looker!” Harper stuttered out, trying to sound surprised. The redheaded magicat through his lanky arms around his boyfriend, feeling the sinew of his musculature through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Heh, yeah. Sorry I didn’t tell you folks. Had my hands full, if you know what I’m sayin’,” Looker suddenly squinted and smirked, looking puzzled yet amused, “Wait, what’s got you grinnin’ like a possum with a sweet tater? This is a little nutty, even for you.” 

“He already knew, babe. Saw your condom in the trash while he was taking a piss,” Blossom explained. The kettle screeched; Blossom filled the French press. 

“That so? Ah, well, yeah. We just couldn’t wait any longer to get to the bedroom, so…” Looker blushed a deep indigo colour, running a hand through his mousy tousle awkwardly. 

“Oh, they sound like a total catch! Baby, I need those deets and need ‘em right  _ now! _ Tell me all about ‘em!” Harper chirped, hands gripping Looker’s toned shoulders, “Ooh, was it the cute Plumerian enby server from the steakhouse? Please tell me it was them!” 

“Nah, wasn’t the Plumerian. I’m savin’ them for you, Peaches, remember? No, no, this girl, though...she is indeed quite the catch, I do declare,” Looker confessed, sounding very pleased with himself. 

“ _ She _ ? Oh, girl hookup! Cool!” Harper’s eyes were practically glowing green. 

“Yeah? I’m as bisexual as the rest of this posse, sug’. And I  _ do _ know what the ladies like...isn’t that right, Rose?” Looker asked, glancing at his half-scorpioni girlfriend over Harper’s shoulder. 

“That’s one way of putting it,” Blossom smiled knowingly, half sizing her blotter boyfriend up and half watching the clock for when she could push the French press down, “So, how about telling us about this mystery lady, bud? Just in case, y’know, I’m looking to pay her a visit later...can’t share my strap with just my kittycat here, am I right?” 

“Hey, if y’all hit it off, don’t let me stop you. Get the whole posse in on it,” Looker laughed, “Well, it basically started when I was out on the porch fiddlin’ with that gramophone I’ve been trying to get workin’. She comes over, asks me to have a look at her car, says it ain’t workin’. I gave ‘er a once-over and didn’t really find nothin’ outta the ordinary. Think she mighta just been sayin’ that as an excuse to talk to me. Anyway, I notice it’s gettin’ kinda late, and it’s mighty cold out, so I invite this lady in. I made her dinner, some tea, and, well...one thing led to another.” 

“Smooth, hon. Real smooth. I bet she was fabulous,” Harper gave Looker a quick peck on the cheek. 

“Oh, she was, she was. Think I’ve ridden wild horses that didn’t tire me out half as much. Hell, I reckon the tank guns I used to load back in Armoured didn’t kick as hard, either. I tamed her, though. Didn’t sleep a damn wink, but we’d probably both tell you it was worth it,” Looker explained, sounding heavy with the memories. 

“So is no one going to object to the fact that he just said he ‘tamed’ this girl? Anyone? Little creepy, dude,” Blossom interjected, finally pushing the French press down. 

“Oh, dangit, I’m sorry, Rose. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, I just meant--” Looker’s blue face went white, looking pretty damn shamefaced. 

“Relax, cowboy, I’m just fuckin’ with you. I got the message,” Blossom snorted. She got her mug from the little arrangement of three mugs near the French press, hers being the red one. “You want any of this, my lovelies?” 

“Like I said, Blossom, you always make it too strong,” Looker chided. 

“And like I said,  _ pus-sy _ ,” Blossom singsonged, “What about you, Meowmeow?” 

“Bring on the bean juice!” Harper enthused. 

“Atta boy,” Blossom filled the green mug along with the red one, handing the piping hot brew to her magicat boyfriend. 

Harper took his mug in his hands gently as a baby, heading to the fridge to get some almond milk. Cat mom always said almond milk was the only right milk or cream for coffee. As he got the carton out and prepared to set it down on the countertop, however, he heard a telltale squeak coming from the floor upstairs. That could mean a couple of things, most likely out of two separate options: either the apartment was haunted, or...well…

“Seems like my nighttime companion is up. Peculiar, that. Reckoned she’d be out for longer,” Looker stroked the rough collection of brown stubbles on his chin. 

“She’s still here?” Harper asked, pouring the almond milk into his cup. 

“Sure is. What kinda lowballin’, mangy outlaw do you take me for, boy? I’m a gentleman, ‘course I let her stay the night,” Looker said almost defensively. 

“True, true. I was more worried about her leaving in the night or something,” Harper sipped his coffee and felt satisfied. 

“Well, part o’ me is surprised she didn’t, but it’s pretty cool that she’s still around. See, it’s just…” Looker laughed and did that awkward thing with his hair again, “...She’s kinda a celebrity, so, y’know, I figured she’d be off to her next big thing. Well, I guess maybe ‘celebrity’ ain’t the right kinda moniker. More like...ah, First Ones, what’s another word for someone important?” 

“...Someone important?” Harper asked. 

“Nah, that ain’t right, doll. Not enough punch,” Looker shook his head. 

“Hero could work. Or maybe, like, ‘public figure’ if you want something a little more dispassionate,” Blossom took her coffee black, nursing it right out of the French press. 

“Hero sounds about right, I reckon,” Looker nodded. 

"Hero, eh? Sounds like someone my tall mom would hang out with. That, or a firefighter," Blossom joked. 

"You slept with a  _ firefighter,  _ Looker?" Harper asked. 

"No, no, she ain't no firefighter...I would say she  _ is  _ the type General Scorpia might be acquainted with. Hell, they probably are," Looker explained. 

"Ooh. One of your old army pals?" Blossom asked, "I'm gonna have to get on her good side now…" 

"Uh, think another branch of service," Looker blushed that deep blueish-purple colour again. 

And that's when the revelation hit the other two poly pals. It was by no means thanks to Looker's increasingly vague, almost nervous explanations of his lover's line of work, however. Instead, his new paramour decided to make herself known through the sound of her distinct voice. It was a sound most Etherians with even an iota of historical education knew, one plucked straight out of any war documentary featuring the EPG starfleet. And, of course, as if that wasn't proof of her identity enough, her voice was accompanied by a loud, drawn-out groan. 

" _ Grease monkey!  _ What's the Etherinet password?" The sardonic voice demanded from roughly the top of the stairs. 

"In a minute, Fleet Admiral! My partners and I are havin' coffee," Looker called back to his hookup of higher military standing. 

Harper and Blossom were totally floored. While the ginger magicat looked utterly appalled in his surprise, Blossom seemed almost humorous.  _ Fleet Admiral _ . Only one woman in the Royal Navy with that rank, something she'd held onto while all the other branches of service changed their command structures in the 20 or so years since the end of the Second Horde War. 

"I'm sorry,  _ Fleet Admiral? _ " Harper stammered. 

" _ Holy nutballs _ ! Looker slept with Mermista! Somebody get this man a cookie! No, wait,  _ several  _ cookies!" Blossom exclaimed, further affirming what seemed to be afoot here. 

“Much obliged, darlin’. I’ll take you up on those cookies. And, heh, yeah, I guess I did...well, no, I don’t guess, I  _ know _ ,” Looker laughed awkwardly. 

“There better be some coffee for me!” the Salinean-born naval commander called from up the stairs, followed by slow movement on the upstairs floor. 

“Dude, really?” Harper asked, sounding mortified. 

“What? Really what? You sound like you’ve seen better days, Peach,” Looker grumbled, confused. 

“She’s old enough to be my  _ mom _ !” Harper hissed, “And you... _ you _ ...dammit, Looker, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but why couldn’t you just keep it in your pants?” 

“Around her? Yeah, like hell I would,” Looker rolled his eyes, “You’re tellin’ me you didn’t find a single one of your moms’ friends hot, sugar?” 

“Yeah, Meowmeow. Pretty weird. Tall mom used to invite some of the ladies from her old tank battalion over for drinks, and... _ oh, damn _ , that was my bi awakening right there is all I’m saying,” Blossom blushed, seemingly recalling pleasant images of handsome Royal Army gals. 

“How long has this been a thing? Why is this a thing?” Harper asked frustratedly. 

“You serious? Pretty sure half the galaxy’s jerked it to your space mom, Peaches. Sorry to burst your bubble,” Looker laughed, “Well, ‘cept for the skull feller. He’s been jerkin’ it to your cat mom.” 

“I’ve jerked it to both!” Blossom casually announced before sipping at her coffee. She noticed Harper giving her the stink eye and she naturally returned the look. “What?” 

“You guys are so fucking weird…” Harper rolled his eyes. 

“Ugh, just let me have this, sug’,” Looker sighed, clearly feeling like it was too early for this. 

“Oh, I’m not gonna stop you from having anything, babe, but this is just--” Harper started. 

The three bickering lovers were interrupted by footfalls descending the stairs, treading clumsily with sleep and maybe a bit of hurriedness. It seemed Mermista really wanted her coffee; Harper figured his cat mom would’ve told him about something like that, but she really never did. He surmised that the heads of the Royal Army and Royal Navy didn’t butt heads much, which frankly was something of a puzzle to him. Nevertheless, it seemed she was on her way. 

“We are shelving this, boy,” Looker said with an uncharacteristic amount of sternness. 

“Yeah, I agree. Kinda wanna make a good first impression on the Field Admiral,” Blossom chimed in over a loud slurp of coffee. 

“Alright, alright, I’m cool! This is me playing it cool!” Harper griped, crossing his arms as best he could with a coffee mug in one hand. 

Sauntering down the hallway in what appeared to be Looker’s pilfered bathrobe, Fleet Admiral Mermista looked somewhere between utterly groggy and aggressively pleased with herself. Even in a dressed-down state, the white-and-blue coat of the Royal Navy nowhere to be seen on her, she carried herself with attitude and authority in equal measures. She gave a gentle nod in the direction of the resident polycule--her most recent lover among them--and joined their meeting in the kitchen. Harper thought he heard Blossom stifle a starstruck squeak, and he in turn had to stifle an eyeroll. 

“Billy…” Mermista groaned, throwing her flowing ultramarine hair back and resting her head on Looker’s shoulder, “...Where’s my coffee?” 

“ _ Billy _ ? Damn, cowboy, she’s on a first-name basis with you?” Blossom asked in amazement. 

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in, why don’t you…” Looker chuckled to himself in mild embarrassment, “Coffee’s in the press, sweetheart. Blossom made it, though, so it’s mighty overpowerin’.” 

“Won’t be a problem. Had a bit of a rough night,” Mermista’s hand went somewhere obscured, and Harper was 99% sure she grabbed his boyfriend’s deliciously firm ass, “You gonna introduce me to these two, dude?” 

“With pleasure, Fleet Admiral. The gal with the muscles and the silver hair’s Blossom Andromeda, and the peachy-lookin’ catboy’s Harper Meowmeow. They’re my boyfriend and girlfriend, and together the three of us are what you might call a humble polyamorous posse. That’s a  _ polycule  _ to you city folk,” Looker pointed to each of his respective partners, looking and sounding proud of them both. He seemed proud of the company of everyone in the room, come to think of it. He  _ had  _ just spent the night shagging the most powerful woman in the Royal Navy, after all, so he did have plenty of reasons to be proud of the trio’s houseguest. 

"H-heya, Fleet Admiral, ma'am. It's a real honor to, uh, be putting you up here," Blossom, looking starstruck, poured some coffee into one of the spare mugs, passing it to Mermista while shakily saluting, "I'm General Scorpia's daughter." 

"General who?" Mermista asked, gladly taking the mug. 

"General Scorpia Andromeda? Chief of staff of the Royal Army and head of the scorpioni heritage society called the Spartan League? You would've probably fought together in the Horde Wars at some point. Well, I think so, anyway. Dunno how much overlap there is between the army and navy. I-I mean, you guys probably  _ still  _ work together sometimes, right? Oh, First Ones, I'm rambling…" Blossom blushed a little, something she was rarely known to do. The butch punk must’ve been pretty damn flustered. 

“All good. It’s kinda cute,” Mermista laughed dryly, almost as if the remark was intended to only further fluster the half-scorpioni girl, “Yeah, I know her. Sorry, just known a lot of top brass over the years so I’m getting bad with names.” 

“You’re better with Looker’s name than we are, at least. We didn’t even learn his real name until like a year into dating him since all he gives out is his old army nickname,” Harper explained, bordering on a lamentation. Looker shot his magicat boyfriend a dirty look, and the lanky redhead simply stuck his tongue out in response. 

“Well, I mean, like, I have my ways…” Mermista drawled in a way that was so unambiguously laden with innuendo that it hurt to listen to, “Hey, you’re Catra and Adora’s kid, aren’t you?” 

“Mhm,” Harper simply nodded. 

“Thought you looked familiar. Damn, you got hot, didn’t you?” Mermista teased. It was like she was actively trying to fluster everyone. 

Harper said nothing, merely uttering an incoherent grunt and looking away, tight-lipped. He cursed himself for blushing; he could feel his face going flush. 

“Yeah, he’s real cute, ain’t he?” Looker asked rhetorically. It brought a quiet smile to Harper’s face. “Right, well, you’ve met my other partners. Reckon you need no introduction, my dear Star Hawk, but I figure I might as well.” 

“Aww, Billy, you’re sweet. I’d call you a show off, but, I mean, same,” the Fleet Admiral briefly pecked her blotter bedfellow on the cheek. 

“Damn right,” Looker looked at his poly pals, “Well, this is Fleet Admiral Mermista, but I reckoned y’all figured that out. She’s a legendary naval commander, shot a whole lotta sorry lil’ mole rat destroyers into space junk durin’ the war, and, uh...the proud owner of a first-class spaceport.” 

“Wait, if she’s head of the navy, why does she only have the one spaceport? Doesn’t she control, like,  _ all the spaceports _ ? Or, like, maybe just the, uh, military-related ones…” Harper scratched his head. 

“Ah, Peach, you ain’t catchin’ my meaning here. I-it’s not...like...I’m talkin’ about her coyote, boy.” 

“Her  _ what _ ? Looker, we only have room for one pet here! Our landlord made an exception for Melog, we can’t bring more in here! Plus, that sounds  _ super, super illegal _ !" Harper squealed in panic, sounding like a little kitten. 

"No, no, he's speaking figuratively. Pretty sure he is, anyway. Sometimes he uses that term for--" Blossom started.

" _ Ugh _ ! It's pretty obvious he's talking about my vagina, you dorks," Mermista rolled her eyes, her demeanor almost identical to how Harper's cat mom described her. 

"Right! Yes! Thank you! It was on the tip of my tongue, I swear!" Blossom exclaimed, clearly still flustered. 

"You're adorable. Loving your pals already, Billy," Mermista took a sip of her coffee, seemingly cooled down enough for her. Her eyes went wide as soon as she got a taste. "Hey! Scorpia's kid! You made this?" 

"Hmm? Oh, y-yeah, sure did! It's the same dark roast we use up at Stardust. Oh, First Ones, I'm sorry, you probably don't even know what that is, do you? Sorry, ma'am. Stardust is my--" Blossom started, only to get cut off again. Seemed to be her pattern for this conversation. 

"This is  _ amazing _ ! Holy fuck, you're an angel!" Mermista eagerly took another drink. 

" _ What _ ? Blossom's coffee is like gettin' kicked in the teeth by a horse. S'about the only appropriate description I can manage, y'see," Looker seemed appalled. 

"The hell it is! Ugh, where has this been all my life?" The enamored naval officer took the mug and settled down at the kitchen table, looking a bit ridiculous slouched back in her chair with Looker's thick robe on, "Shore leave's gonna be even better than I expected thanks to you, Billy." 

Harper's mouth went agape for a minute. Behind him, his half-scorpioni girlfriend's mouth did the same, although it was likely for totally different reasons. Harper wasn't sure what the hell it was that Looker had promised his newfound lover, but whatever it was, he wasn't sure how to feel about it.  _ Shore leave _ . Oh, crap. 

"Shore leave? Like, multiple days of shore leave?" Harper asked, turning to Looker. 

"Yes, my sweet Peach, shore leave. I'm more interested in the multiple  _ nights _ , if I'm tellin' the truth," Looker chuckled as he put an arm around his auburn-furred boyfriend. 

Harper had to stifle an exasperated sigh. This was going to be a long couple of days. 


	2. Lost at Sea

_ “Ah! Ah! Oh, oh Billy, ohh… _ ” 

The day had gone by pretty smoothly. After stifling his initial unsettledness, Harper found that the Fleet Admiral was easy enough to get along with. She took the three of them for lunch at some local place the polycule had somehow never heard of, was endlessly open about all her travel stories from out in the black...and, among all this charm and silver-tongued sailor mannerism, convinced Harper and Blossom to take the couch for the duration of her stay. And, while the futon in the modest little apartment living room was quite cozy, the ginger magicat and half-scorpioni butch were definitely gaining a newfound appreciation for just how thin the walls of their abode were. Harper was unsure if this had crossed Blossom’s mind, but he felt suddenly anxious that the noise might disturb the building’s other tenants. Then again, the three of them had gotten up to plenty of voluminous mischief in their time, and as such the other inhabitants were probably just used to the guttural sexual incoherencies of apartment #1. 

Harper did his best to cuddle into his girlfriend’s warm, muscular embrace and relax. Admittedly, listening to Looker enjoy himself and please his latest, high-profile hookup was totally hot. He still thought that Mermista was a little too old for Looker, but still, hot. The blotter mechanic was having a good time, and that was more or less at the top of Harper’s priorities. It was still quite hard to sleep in the passionate cacophony’s presence, however, even in the warmth of Blossom’s arms and the dark umber room. He snuggled down and tried to keep his eyes shut but nope, nothing. 

“H-hey, Bloss?” Harper asked, checking to see if the silver-haired punk rocker was still awake. 

“Hmm? Oh, hey babe. What’s up?” Blossom mumbled groggily, taking a second to rub her eyes. She always looked so much different without her glasses. 

"They're...heh, they're really going at it up there," Harper observed. 

"Sure are," Blossom continued to slur out, "Don't tell me it's bothering you. Figured you stopped being the jealous type ages ago." 

"Oh, no, no! Not like that! It's just...damn, I'm used to our hookups being a little less noisy. Are we usually like this?" Harper asked. 

"You definitely are." 

"What? Am not." 

"Mhm, are too. That time with the cute guy from your yoga class? With the glasses?" 

"W-we were careful…" 

"That time with the Royal Marine chick? Shaved head, cybernetic right arm?" 

"I...you weren't the one seeing what she could do with that arm! And besides, we weren't that bad!" 

"Relax, dude, I'm just fuckin' with you. It was hot," Blossom gave a weak, sleepy laugh, running a hand through Harper's hair gently, "I'm just saying, you're not used to it because you're usually the one raising hell around here." 

"He's giving me a taste of my own medicine. Yeesh, even when I'm not the one he's fucking, Looker's always gotta top me," Harper joked. 

"Mmm, you make it easy…" Blossom laughed again, this time more distinctly sultry, and planted a warm kiss on Harper's soft, fuzzy forehead, "They are pretty damn loud, though. Like, even by this house's standards." 

"Got that right. I dunno whether to be appalled or get an erection, frankly." 

"You fuckin' dork…" 

"What? I'm serious!" 

"I'm sure you are," Blossom teased, "Well, if you settle on the latter, let me know. I'd love to help." 

"D-does that mean what I think it means?" Harper asked. 

"That depends on what you think it means, kittycat," Blossom's embrace tightened for a moment. 

"You wanna...y'know…" Harper felt himself blush, which was kind of stupid given he and Blossom had been dating for two years at this point and they'd probably had sex  _ thousands  _ of times during those years, "Aren't you tired, though? I-I mean, I'm sorta tired, just a little bit, y'know?" 

"I'll be gentle with you, Meowmeow." 

"You and I have very different definitions of gentle." 

"I'll... _ approximate _ gentle…" 

Harper just laughed and nudged himself further into his lover's arms. He felt a little bewildered at Blossom's suggestions, suspecting they were probably nothing but a joke. Trying to do it out here, accompanied by a raucous orchestra of Looker and Mermista's intermingled grunts and moans and box spring squeaks, felt completely implausible. Plus, all the condoms were upstairs, assuming Looker hadn't burned through the household's entire supply yet. That didn't rule certain things out, however, but that didn't really account for the fact that Blossom sounded moments away from sleep. 

"Are you being serious?" Harper asked. 

"What? Yeah, duh. Need a little something extra to get to sleep, plus the big party upstairs is kinda doin' it for me," Blossom explained. Her hand was in Harper's hair and he felt her tilt his face ever so gently. 

"Oh. Well...I mean... _ oh _ ," Harper's eyes were trained on hers, two red dots in the darkness watching him intently, "I mean, I've definitely been feeling pretty restless too…" 

"Well, do you want some help with that?" Blossom asked, this time with unmistakable motivation. 

Harper sat with the question for a moment, pondering. He half expected that Blossom was simply going to cuddle into him deeper, and this whole situation was nothing but a giant elaborate joke. The way she looked in the darkened room, though...the longer parts of her undercut cascaded over the pillow like a waterfall of mercury, silvery strands brightly reflecting the moonlight. It was swaying him, and if he was being honest, the cacophony upstairs was doing it for him too. It was partially his boyfriend who was causing it, after all. 

"Yeah, I-I would," Harper's voice was breathy. Blossom's hand was still in his reddish locks, and he was definitely feeling a tilt now. 

“That’s all you had to say,” Blossom smirked, just barely visible in the darkness. She moved the tilt forwards even more. 

Her lips found his in the moon’s dim shade, a gentle kiss befitting their current, sleepy status. Harper felt himself almost instinctively lean into it harder, drawn to Blossom’s warmth and the promise of something more. She had once been all he’d ever wanted, not just to be the object of her lust but indeed her love, and while times had changed he still wanted her maddeningly. He loved his partners, and moments alone with them were only rivalled by moments together as a trio. With this resolve, Harper leaned in and gave himself fully to the kiss, only to briefly giggle and pull back when Blossom teased the inside of his mouth with her tongue. 

“Be gentle, remember?” Harper whimpered. 

“Was that too much? Sorry, Meowmeow,” Blossom recoiled ever-so-slightly, as if to say she had done something wrong. 

“N-no, just…slowly, okay?” 

“Yeah, sure, sure. Slowly is good. Can do slowly,” Blossom nodded, obviously trying to respect her boyfriend’s boundaries as much as possible. 

“Mmm, so show me what you got,” Harper requested, sounding enticed and excited to see more. Admittedly, he felt ready to go further even if he  _ did  _ want a little slow-burn teasing in his life. 

Blossom obliged, bringing a cherry-nailed hand to the small of Harper’s back and stroking through his fur gently there. The redheaded catboy purred and almost subconsciously leaned his head into the toned muscle of her shoulder, feeling himself relax and give himself to her even more. Subtly at first, so slight in her movements so as to be nigh-undetectable, Blossom brought her hand further downwards, brushing past his gently-twitching tail to rest on his curvaceous butt. She enjoyed a rapport of slow, sultry laughs as her actions brought out a soft, breathy moan in her boyfriend, her free hand coming to the back of his neck. Her eyes met his, and for a moment all they saw was warmth and a kind of wanting restrained only by their sleepiness. 

“Is this okay?” Blossom asked, grabbing another handful of Harper’s hindquarters. 

“ _ Yes _ …” Harper tried hard not to squeal. He found this reflex humorous given the continued sounds of Looker loudly plowing the Fleet Admiral while she held back nothing, but he surmised that was what he got for coming from a house with three other people. 

“Shall I keep going?” the half-scorpioni checked in yet again. 

“ _ Go for it _ ,” Harper breathed, already sounding full of lust. 

Blossom found Harper’s lips again, one hand squeezing his ass while the other dug into his scalp and pulled him in as close as possible. Every grab at his rear made the ginger catboy let out a tiny yip, a sharp little mew just like a kitten's. His wandering hands found his lover's modestly sized breasts, gently cupping them and feeling their freed forms under Blossom's loose fitting shirt. Part of him didn't want to close his eyes, wanting to admire her sharp beauty in full without abstaining from a single sight. He let himself get lost in the dance of gentle caresses nonetheless, however, savoring the warmth of her palm and digits against his perfect baby pumpkin of a butt. 

They stayed like this for a soft and gentle while, making out and pawing at one another with nothing but the moonlight to guide them. Blossom's hands were perfect as always, and Harper had half the mind to surmise his were too judging by Blossom's faint moans. He kept gently making biscuits on her tits while she did the same to his backside and hair until Blossom started to shift her hand off of Harper's head and moved it elsewhere. She traced it downward, down the front of his chest, dangerously close to the front of his underwear. Almost to that place between his thighs. 

"Are you okay with this?" Blossom asked, her hand hovering just above Harper's boxers. Given his growing firmness, he imagined that must have taken quite a bit of effort on her behalf. 

Harper giggled at his partner's courteousness, finding her little consent checks sweet. The catboy opted not to answer verbally, however, thinking another pathway might be demonstrably sexier. He gently took hold of Blossom's hovering wrist, so solid he could barely wrap his hand around it, and brought her hand to the front of his boxers. Harper yipped again in response, Blossom's eyes widening as she felt the outline of his hardening down there. She didn't have to settle for an outline for long though, as Harper again guided her hand somewhere; this time, he let her up and over the waist of his undergarments, sliding in past the tuft of fur to his awaiting manhood. Harper sighed in satisfaction with the maneuver, his eyes closed and mouth grinning in sleepy pleasure. 

"Interpreting aggressively direct response as a yes," Blossom said sarcastically, "Damn, boy." 

"Sorry. I just...I need you," Harper whined. 

"I figured that out. Sure feels like it," Blossom ran her hand over Harper's firm shaft, letting her fingers wrap around him. 

Harper felt his lover pull downwards on his foreskin, coaxing the head out of its confines. Blossom gently rubbed him under his boxers for a few minutes, eliciting whines and moans from him the entire time as she jerked him off with a sort of gentleness that made sense given her sleepiness, until she slid the magicat's dick up and out over the waist of his underwear. Harper let out a satisfied sigh as he felt his member become free, the sensation only coupled by the excitement at how much more room Blossom had to work with now. Her technique remained soft, gentle, soothing, but her pace was quickened now that she had a full suite of movement. 

"Oh, Bloss... _ Oh, First Ones, don't stop, baby _ …" Harper whined, his hands slack near his head. 

"Hadn't planned on it," Blossom's smirk was audible in her voice, "You have such a cute dick…" 

"Do I now?" 

"Fuck yeah, you do." 

Harper giggled again, this time more moan than laugh, and let his head lull back on the pillow. One hand was on his forehead, the other limply at his side. His head was totally empty, his brain's whole blood supply seemingly devoted to running his secondary, smaller head. Blossom's hands were masterful, knowing just the right way to caress his manhood to drive him crazy. He knew she was probably smiling at him with that same stupid, cocky smile in the darkness, doubtlessly proud of her handiwork (her handy handiwork, you might say) as always. Her hand against his length felt so good and they were more than enough to satisfy him in a sleepy state.

Blossom kept raising up and falling down, sliding back and forth over him. Every stroke was a roaring wave of pleasure, every movement threatening to put him over the edge. His lover's nimble hand moved over each sensitive area, somehow knowing to tighten as she slid over the space between shaft and glans, that most sensitive of sensitive areas. Harper damn near let out a scream, coming out closer to a little kitten's mewling. 

" _ Oh, fuck, Bloss...you're perfect...mmm… _ " Harper called out. 

"Shit, Meowmeow, keep this up and we'll give Looker and Mermista a run for their money, huh?" Blossom joked. 

"Y-you think s-so?" Harper could barely keep his thoughts coherent. He sure as shit couldn't keep them straight, bi mess that he was. 

"I know so. I always win at friendly games of 'Who Can Make Their Partner Scream The Loudest', babe." 

"I thought... _ mmm, oh, fucking fuck _ ...I-I was the noisiest here?" 

"You're usually the one doing the screaming." 

"Oh!" 

Blossom laughed and went quiet, wanting to focus back on the job at hand. That suited Harper just fine, considering how good with her hands she was. He couldn't quite draw a bead on whether or not he was close per se, but he definitely felt amazing regardless, every stroke of Blossom's masterful wrist hurtling him further into pleasure. He let his eyes crack open a few inches, looking down ever so slightly to see what was going on. The image of Blossom's hand, olive skin dotted with red nails, pumping his erect manhood sent more sensations of pleasure and firmness through him. For a moment his eyes looked to the side and caught hers and, despite being incoherent with moans, he suddenly had a bit of an epiphany. 

"B-Bloss...hey…" he started. 

"Everything okay, kittycat?" Blossom asked, sounding genuinely concerned for a split second. 

"Wh-what? Oh, fuck yeah, it's better than perfect...think I thought of something that'd make it even better, though," Harper explained, voice shaky with lust. 

"Do tell," Blossom teased.

"Do you wanna l-let me…" Harper rotated slightly where he laid, his right hand snaking its way to Blossom's inner thigh, "Let me make you...umm, feel good too? Please, I'll--" 

“Aww, you sound so eager,” Blossom let out another sultry laugh, “I was hoping you would. Like I said, need a little something to put me to sleep. You can wait until I finish you off, though. Y’know, if the reach is too awkward right now.” 

“No. No, I really  _ can’t  _ wait,” Harper whined. Blossom’s hand was still firmly on his manhood and oh First Ones did it feel good. “It’s like I said, love. I need you.” 

“You’re adorable, you know that? An adorable little idiot…” Blossom sneered playfully. Her free hand found the one Harper had placed on her thigh. “Well, if you want it that bad, be my guest.” 

Harper hardly had time to react as Blossom’s free hand tightened around his. His breath quickened, whether from his own eagerness or from the still-prevalent sensations of Blossom’s touch against his most sensitive area, as she guided his hand fingers-first into her panties. They were black with little white skulls dotting them and Harper had been there when she picked them out, declaring they were quite cute and a must-buy. Presently, however, Harper was more interested in what was under them. His digits brushed passed the fuzzy patch of hair down there, gently yet hungrily sliding over her folds. Both of them moaned audibly at the action, Harper’s own vocalization simply coming from the realization of how wet Blossom was. 

First Ones, was she wet. It kind of made Harper feel proud of himself in a way, knowing their rolling around had caused that telltale dampness between her legs. If he wasn’t still being touched by Blossom, the ginger magicat had half the mind to scooch himself under the covers and lick her clean. Love was a sacrament best taken kneeling, as Oscar Wilde of Earth-That-Was once said thousands of years ago, and Harper had most certainly taken the ancient writer’s advice to heart. His hands would more than suffice for now, however, and he loved feeling her damp womanhood against his nimble little fingers. He just had to remember to keep his claws in, of course, because that would get ugly fast if not. 

His fingers brushed over her inner lips, already slick with her wetness in the best way possible, until he caught the hood of Blossom’s clit with the tips of his index and ring fingers. The half-scorpioni butch gasped happily as Harper found her sweet spot and he could only take that as a good sign. Her hand was undeterred from working away at her boyfriend’s cock, now angled in such a way that he was almost certainly going to catch her in his splash zone, and Harper wasn’t going to let himself be deterred either. Gently, he rubbed little circles onto her sensitive zone, wanting nothing more than to please her the way she was pleasing him. She was a stone butch, hard fighting, punk rock queen, and he was her little groupie waiting on her every desire. 

“ _ Oh, fuck, Harper _ ...I’m so glad you’re so damn flexible,” Blossom whimpered, her voice even more deep and sultry in its pleasured intonations. Seemed Harper wasn’t the only one around here who was eager. 

“Ah, nothing to it,” Harper laughed awkwardly, smirking as his hand worked away on his lover. In truth, keeping his composure was getting difficult, and he felt like he might be getting close himself. “Anything for you, Bloss.” 

“Heh, right. That’s it, good boy…” Blossom teased, a familiar phrase she used with her catboy all too much. 

“Don’t…” Harper panted, “Don’t you say it.” 

“I’m gonna say it,” Blossom threatened playfully. 

“You-- _ ah! _ \--better not!” 

“I’m gonna!” 

“Bloss, no--” 

“ _ Pshpshpsh _ …”

And that's when Harper's timing went all screwball in the most dramatically ironic of ways. Blossom's touch in tandem with her wetness drove him completely up the wall, the shocks of pleasure closer and closer together now, and he couldn't take it anymore. He felt a stirring in his loins for a minute before an uncontrollable rush ran through his manhood. He found his release with a high-pitched, impassioned squeal, calling out for his lover in an ascending tone. When he was sure he was finished riding his orgasm, still feeling the sensation of his creamy, hot liquid dripping from his opening, he looked over at Blossom. He couldn't completely tell in the darkness, but her shirt's faint glisten seemed to elude to her indeed being in his splash zone. 

"Sorry about the mess," Harper giggled mischievously. 

"All good, dude, just part of the fun," Blossom held up the hand she'd used to pleasure her boyfriend, now slick with his cum, "Hmm. Does this happen every time I do the  _ pshpshpsh _ thing?" 

"No, no, it was just a coincidence," Harper explained. 

“Ah. I was gonna say, that might be useful if it were the case,” Blossom laughed, only to be abruptly cut off by her own whines as Harper kept rubbing her, “Oh, dude, you don’t have to keep going if you’re too sleepy now--” 

“What? You think I’d just quit on you? That hurts, Bloss,” Harper snarked, speeding up his fingers’ gyrations in response to Blossom’s concerns. Yeah, sure, he was basking in a little post-orgasm sleepiness, but he wanted to touch his girlfriend way more than he wanted a nap. 

"Hey, if you need to, it's okay," Blossom's head lolled back a minute, her thoughts seemingly unamused as her mouth opened in a tranquil grin, the sound of her soft moans so sweet to Harper, " _ Mmm _ ...kinda hoping you don't, though." 

"Hadn't planned on it. Not when you're having so much fun…" Harper moved himself in closer to Blossom, finding her neck and kissing her there as his hands continued to dance along her lady flower. 

Harper was totally immersed in the act of worshipping his lover, wanting only to make her feel as good as he could manage. Not in any rough or aggressive way, but softly, gently, lovingly. The catboy continued to caress Blossom’s pussy right on its most sensitive nook, soft with just the right amount of vigor. His kisses and touches only served to elicit more cries from Blossom, her voice just as simultaneously harmonious and dirty as a punk rock frontwoman would be. He could take in her beauty forever, running himself along every curve or sculpted muscle while pressing his skin against hers. For now, however, it seemed more than enough to cuddle into her while he continued to touch her sensitive spots. 

“ _ Oh, oh fuck, Harper _ ...you’re so good to me, kittycat…” Blossom moaned, her head even further back and her body arched ever-so-slightly upwards. 

He really wanted to be good to her. Blossom’s announcement of it was proof enough, but the slickness coating his fingers only further backed the notion up. Her little nub was right under his fingers, a location he intended to remain in. Almost instinctively, he sped up just a little bit--enough to keep things interesting but not too rough--and Blossom nearly screamed out for him. He was close enough to smell her musk now, doubtlessly only aided by how intensely she was enjoying herself. The scent made Harper frenetic, and once again he found himself stricken with a slight urge to kiss her lower set of lips. The half-scorpioni punk had other plans for Harper’s body, however. 

“Think you could go in me? J-just a little?” Blossom requested. 

“Like with my hand?” Harper checked. He was still moving his fingers in tiny circles all the while. 

“Yeah…” 

“Sounds fun, I’m in.” 

Harper slowed his fingers down in their rotations, dancing them downwards until they were on the very edge of Blossom’s opening. The punk rocker whined in anticipation, clearly just wanting him to do away with the teasing and fuck her with his fingers already. Barely restraining himself, Harper obliged this request as he twirled his ring finger along her opening's outer edge for one endlessly tantalizing moment. When he'd completed this teasing rotation, he gently slid the finger inwards. 

"It's like I said, Bloss…" he started. 

Blossom gasped at the single digit's entry, either in shock or simply pleasure. Harper's entry was a smooth one, the entry point so thoroughly lubricated with Blossom's own dampness that he hardly had to worry. That was helpful, seeing as how a moment later he was sliding in his ring finger and preparing to give her the full thing. 

"...Anything for you," Harper finished his thought, leaning in to whisper in Blossom's ear as well as nibble it. 

He traced his way back to her neck and kept kissing her there, her response simply a chain of noises not unlike a keybash as he kept fingering her. The thoroughly-soaked digits of Harper's right hand slid gently in and out, outer phalanxes curving in a beckoning motion all the while. Blossom’s cries didn’t let up, completely under Harper’s sway as he kept worshipping her sweet, dripping womanhood. Harper’s fingers curled and uncurled, winding and unwinding, gesturing for her to come closer and closer to her limit. The catboy almost felt an urge to scoff internally at Blossom’s presuppositions that he would be too tired to finish her off; how could he ever skimp on something like that when every single moment of tenderly pleasing her was just so delicious? 

“ _ Mmm, oh yes, Harper _ …” Blossom’s voice was a low growl of passion, her body and her words so totally absorbed in Harper’s treatment of her. 

Harper moved himself up with his empty hand, bracing it against the section where Blossom’s right shoulder met her neck. His thumb pressed against her pubis, lost in a thicket of silver hair as the digits adjacent to it continued their inward dance. He just wanted to see her face, to catch the glint of her eyes in the dark. She batted them open, seemingly noticing his adjustment, and it was beautiful. Two rubies, faintly sparkling in the moon’s dim glow. It only made him want her more, somehow making her even more enchanting, his fingers beginning to stroke her just a little faster; just a little, of course, given he wanted to be gentle with her and that seemed to be where she was at too. It certainly looked like it was doing it for her. 

“H-hey…” Blossom panted. 

“Hey, Bloss,” Harper smirked playfully. 

“This is...this is really nice.” 

“On that we can agree.”   
“You’re…” Blossom staggered a minute, her moans interrupting her as she arched her back. In response, Harper slid his fingers out just to the tips and then slid them back in ever-so-gently, returning to their crook shape and motion. Blossom almost screamed, then laughed weakly at the hilarity of how hard it was getting to finish her thought. “You’re really fuckin’ pretty, Harper.” 

“Didn’t take you for such a softie,” Harper teased. 

“Babe, no, come on, I’m-- _ ah! _ \--serious,” the half-scorpioni’s right hand ran up Harper’s scalp, gently taking a handful of his ginger mane, “You are...so beautiful.” 

“And you’re  _ breathtaking _ , honey. Always have been…” 

The two of them shared a warm smile, Harper becoming aware of the pull of something that was certainly not gravity at the back of his head. Leaning back down, the two lovers found each other’s lips as Harper continued to caress Blossom’s pussy. He didn’t want to sleep, he just wanted to love her, every sensation of attraction and passion and lust and care focused into his hand. His wrist kept flicking and his fingers kept beckoning, thumb drifting down to Blossom’s little bean to give her a little something extra and show off his flexibility, until her cries became impossible to silence with his lips. She broke away, back arched, mouth utterly agape, all the while screaming Harper’s name like it was the only word she knew. It wasn’t a cue to stop. Harper continued to rub her, even more gently now, sustaining his loving while she was cumming. Eventually, however, she rode the shockwaves out, uttering one final contented sigh to herself as Harper took the cue to slow his hand. 

“Hoo boy...wow. Thanks, babe. That hit the spot,” Blossom let her left forearm fall to her eyes, her silver hair a totally tousled mess befitting her post-fucking state. 

“Mmm, sure did,” Harper fell back to the futon, curling up right next to his beautiful, burly lover. 

Blossom curled her arms around Harper, kissing his fuzzy forehead while she stroked his flowing hair. They were both thoroughly satisfied, and feeling her arms around him was like some sort of extra reward for the ginger catboy. Not that he ever needed some sort of incentive to make love to his girlfriend, of course. He adored her body, found it mesmerizing and intoxicating and so amazingly strong and powerful, and he wanted to let her know just how he felt every chance he got. For now, with his display finished--and, in turn, her display towards him--and his punk rock queen ravished, it was time to go to sleep in her ample arms. 

“Hey, Harper?” Blossom asked. It was strange, he still perked up when he heard her say his name. He was so used to just hearing ‘Meowmeow’ or ‘kittycat’ or whatever; he liked it when she showed her soft side to him, the romantic beneath all that badass posturing, as it felt sort of like a trust thing for him. 

“Yeah, baby?” Harper mumbled. Already he was slipping away. 

“I love you,” Blossom simply said. 

Harper’s tail began to wag under the covers. He snuggled into the half-scorpioni butch’s embrace even tighter. First Ones, that was never gonna get old. 

“I love you too, Bloss,” he sighed. 

“Also, you didn’t do the tail thing.” 

“Sorry, I’m sleepy...do you like the tail thing?” 

“Darlin’, you know I love the tail thing.” 

“Then next time I shall do the tail thing. Offer redeemable anytime.” 

“Cool,” Blossom kissed Harper’s forehead again, “Very cool. Goodnight, Harper.” 

“Goodnight…” 

Just as he was drifting off, Harper let out a tiny, kitten-sized snicker. He was just now noticing that Looker and the Fleet Admiral were still going at it up there. Well, he was too sleepy to pay much attention. He’d gotten some lovin’ tonight too, anyway. 


	3. The Star Hawk

The rest of the Fleet Admiral’s shore leave stay with Harper’s crew actually went pretty well. She shared her seemingly endless war stories, she took them various places, she had sex with Looker--and Blossom, one time, dramatically enough--and all was generally well. Harper admitted she was growing on him; in her own war stories, cat mom always called her a “bitchy space pirate” who was hard to work with even at the best of times, but she didn’t seem that bad. Honestly, she was sort of freakishly well-spoken and sophisticated despite her inflections and constant groaning. Harper still found her age gap with Looker unsettling, but he definitely thought it was a hell of a lot better than if he brought home, say, a 14-year-old. Now  _ that _ would’ve gotten his tail all bushy. 

So when he found himself stepping out to go sit on the porch and found the EPG’s long-sitting naval chief of staff seated there ahead of him, sipping some tea, he decided he might try to join her. He hadn’t really said much to her, owing to the fact she’d been doing most of the talking these few days and had been hanging off of Looker’s arm all the while. Blossom would occasionally stumble over some starry-eyed statement of awe, but that was sort of it. Harper didn’t really know this old warrior whom his cat mom had worked with against the mole rats on Ahriman, and he thought maybe he’d like to. Personally, that is. 

“Umm, hi,” Harper gingerly greeted the blue-haired woman as he stepped onto the porch, door shutting behind him. The sun was beginning to set on New Cairo, interspersing Mermista’s hair with streaks of orange light. Harper didn’t get much more orange than he already was, however. 

“Oh, hey. Peach, right?” Mermista sipped her tea. Harper just now noticed that the oversized Radiohead shirt she wore was definitely one of Blossom’s. Thankfully, it wasn’t the same one he’d spurted his cream all over a couple nights ago. 

“W-well, I mean, actually, it’s Harper. You can call me Peach, though. Usually that’s Looker’s thing, but I’ll allow it,” Harper explained. 

“Whatever floats your atomic-capable Scheherezade-class superheavy dreadnought,” Mermista slurped on her tea again, as if the hot beverage was somehow part of her whole dry, laconic posturing, “So what’s up, man?” 

“Oh, I dunno, I just...I feel like I haven’t said a word to you since you got here.” 

“You asked me to pass the ranch dip at dinner last night.” 

“I mean, true…” Harper blushed, feeling suddenly intimidated, “But I-I meant, like, a  _ real  _ conversation. I just thought that might be fun, and, y’know, you seem to know a lot of stuff about things, so I just figured...but y’know, if you don’t want to, that’s cool too. I know you’re mostly here for Looker, and I don’t blame you, he’s fucking  _ amazing,  _ but--” 

“Alright, alright, simmer down, dude. Yeah, come on over. Billy makes it seem like you’re someone worth knowing, and for me that’s not a category I use lightly, so…” Mermista took a hand off her mug, patting the area of the concrete stoop beside her and gesturing for Harper to join her. 

Harper gladly took the seat, looking out at the sunset. There was something a little intimidating about sitting next to an almost legendary soldier, and thus he found eye contact a little tough right now. His body went rigid, unable to help feeling a little nervous. He supposed his general hesitancy to warm up to the Fleet Admiral coupled with his initial disapproval of her relationship with Looker didn’t do him any favours, either. He didn’t want her to write him off just yet, the way he almost did for her. 

“So, you, umm...you know some big words. Like,  _ real big  _ words. When you took us to the museum, you just kind of--” Harper stuttered out, tongue nearly getting caught in his throat. 

“Yeah, I guess. My MA has been good for that,” Mermista bordered on humble-bragging, but wasn’t quite there. 

“MA? Like a Master’s degree?” Harper asked. 

“Mhm. Completed it at Corvus U, little campus on Nemesis. Had a lot of time on my hands after the Ahriman Convention got signed, so I figured ‘hey, this might as well happen’,” the Fleet Admiral laughed, the sound almost bordering on melancholia in some ways, “I guess I was running away from the war in some ways. Wanted to forget. Lot of us did.” 

“Yeah, I’ll bet. It was like that in my house for the longest time, too. Now it’s like if you get cat mom talking about it, she never stops. She can pretty much recount the whole Prospero mission by heart, even the parts that are blacked out in all the official documents. Uh, don’t tell her I said that,” Harper faked a cough as something of a segue, “But anyway, that’s still really cool! I never knew you were so educated." 

"Mhm. Most don't. Think because I've got an acid tongue in my head that I'm some airheaded floozy who's only the Fleet Admiral because of nepotism. Luckily, I've got a spotless GPA and a service record that's all kills and no frills to prove 'em wrong."

"What did you major in?" 

"English literature. History minor. By the time I was finished with the war, I'd read pretty much every book about it and learned every single tactic used in it. Which seems...redundant now that I think about it, but I guess I was in a weird place when the dust cleared, if that makes sense," Mermista sighed, as if either nostalgic or mourning, and sipped her tea again, "You have anything else you want to ask me, Peach? Or Harper, I guess, or whatever."

"Yeah, I've got a few, I guess," the ginger magicat found his drawn to the necklace the Fleet Admiral had on, noticing she'd been wearing it her whole stay. It wasn't flashy, in fact it looked like old military attire; he recognized the shape of it. "Like why a commander in the Royal Navy is wearing  _ Royal Marine _ dog tags." 

Mermista's face suddenly went grim. She got a look like a deer in headlights, looking terrified of that particular rabbit hole. It was a little weird seeing her become vulnerable like this seeing as how she'd been almost impenetrable in her confidence for her entire stay. Just what was she hiding? Should he have even asked? 

"I...I guess I can tell you that story. No one's asked me about them, not even Billy. How did you know they were Marine tags?" Mermista asked. 

"Cat mom taught me the differences between each branch of service's tags. Gold for the Army, blue steel for the Navy, silver for the Air Force, bronze for the Marines. I loved her history lessons," Harper explained. 

"Right. Course it was her. Well, long as you're asking, I guess I can explain. The tags aren't mine, and I'm not just wearing them for fun. I wear them out of respect for the fallen. To remind me of what I'm fighting to protect. Most of the time, they work," Mermista's hands went to the back of her neck, where she unfastened the tags and promptly passed them to Harper. 

They were pretty standard EPG dogtags from the Second Horde War upon Harper's first glance, nothing really terribly special about them to speak of. Two little rectangles of stamped metal with a copper hue to it, held on a chain of tiny metal beads; practically identical to the ones cat mom had framed in her study, except hers were as golden hued as space mom's hair. Looking at them a little closer, however, yielded some interesting details. The bottom right hand corner of the tags had been clipped away in a slightly asymmetrical circle, the metal seemingly burned through and punctured all in the same strike; it almost looked like a bullet hole, possibly from a small-calibre weapon like a submachine gun (cat mom taught Harper a thing or two about munitions, mostly for hunting). What’s more, there were some faint, faded dark stains across the metal. Might have been blood, who knows. The name on the tag certainly wasn’t Mermista’s: they read SEAHAWK, HIRAM E. across their worn bronze surface. 

“Oh,” Harper whispered, “Who was he? Th-the name, it rings a bell, but I--” 

“Well, the history books will call him a General in the Royal Marines during the interwar years and the first year of the Second Horde War. Their chief of staff, too. Killed in action during a failed attempt to apprehend Colonel Thaddeus Typhon,” Mermista sucked in a ragged breath, followed by a long sigh, “To me, he was a friend. An occasional lover, too, although I'm not proud to admit it." 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, he was...he was a real piece of work, I guess. Bearable at times, though. Just for a while,” the Fleet Admiral let out a weak laugh, “Billy reminds me so much of him. Well, the good parts, anyway. I have a type, what can I say?” 

“Yeah, me too,” Harper joined the weak laughing. He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do here. 

“Yeah, you get it. He deserved a lot better, I think. I’ll spare you the details, but...it was a really rotten way to die, and beyond that I can’t say much else.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, man. I’ve had twenty years to grieve. See, though, that’s the tough thing about this line of work. Bet your moms told you all about it. The pay is ass, the appreciation for it is the most superficial nonsense ever, and you can’t get close to anyone or they...well, they...yeah, you get the idea.” 

Harper hadn’t really gotten an explanation like that about military life from either of his moms. Close, sure, in a euphemistic sort of way, but nothing quite that on the nose. It was funny, cat mom was about the most blunt, loudmouthed, brutally honest person he’d perhaps ever met in his life, but even when she talked about her career it was mostly just ‘you don’t wanna do that’ and that was the end. Talking about it hurt for her, he understood that much, but clearly it hurt Mermista too. Perhaps cat mom had the added baggage of spending the first war on the wrong team, the side of the rod and the axe. The side of galactic genocide and subjugation, destruction on a planetary scale until all of what Horde Prime so lovingly referred to as ‘degeneracy’ was quashed. 

And space mom? Space mom would talk about casualty figures like they were the weather. Her diction around the whole war was unnervingly sterile, death statistics becoming mere statistics while every breach of the Convention--from the Horde’s extensive use of chlorine gas to the EPG’s eagerness to demonstrate their arsenal of atomics, the very  _ same  _ weapons that ended life on humanity’s cradle and plunged them into years of an exceedingly-stratified, technocratic police state held together by the power of the space marines alone--became casual discussion for morning coffee. He supposed that came with the business, writing history books and doing all that research and all that jazz. She wasn’t even  _ apathetic _ , no, she definitely displayed a lot of disgust for humanity’s past misdeeds; she was just blessed with an uncanny knack for bringing up suffering and gore so easily. It might’ve had something to do with her space marine conditioning, something in all that cutting-edge cybernetics and mind-blowing gene splicing desensitizing her and the other slabs of First Ones killing machinery to any sort of violence. 

_ Honey, here’s the thing about war,  _ she used to say,  _ war’s not just about violence. War is controlled violence. And that’s what’s so terrible about it.  _

Well, that didn’t mean much to Harper. No doubt the Fleet Admiral could decode what that meant, what with her pedigree of education and all. Maybe if she and Looker ended up hitting it off in the long run, one day he'd get a chance to ask. This had been an interesting conversation, though. He felt mournful about his hand in bringing up unhappy memories, but she was still pretty damn interesting. She had perspective, and was articulate enough to get that across. 

"I do...well, I think I do," Harper nodded, "You gonna be okay?” 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, just haven’t talked about it in a while,” Mermista explained, nursing the last of her tea. 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I probably shouldn’t have prodded at you about it, it was stupid and I--” 

“All good, dude. You didn’t know.” 

“I didn’t know a lot of things about you. Like, a  _ lot  _ of things. Just, the whole thing with your degree and the words and the...yeah,” Harper laughed stupidly. The two of them were sitting closer together than he remembered. “Looker was right in taking a liking to you, I think. You’re pretty cool. Wish I’d seen that.” 

“Well hey, man, it’s not too late.” 

“No, I guess it’s not--wait, what are you doing?” 

One of the Fleet Admiral’s hands had somehow found its way to Harper’s cheek. The other was on his thigh, her tea seemingly having been put down somewhere. Harper hardly had time to question how she moved over to him so quickly or just what she planned to do. His mouth went slack, the auburn fur of his face going deeper red as he fumfered mindlessly. 

“It’s like I said that first day. You got hot,” Mermista purred. Pretty soon Harper was purring as well, and he had no idea why since this situation seemed so bizarre to him. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of all this. Part of him still thought her age difference with Looker was weird, and Harper was even younger than him. Something about the way she looked in this light, though, was starting to awaken Harper to his boyfriend’s perspective. That said nothing of her words on top of that. He found himself leaning in with her, coming in closer, until…

“Hey, you two!” Looker swung the door open, interrupting whatever strange moment his boyfriend and paramour were having, “Just wanted to let y’all know that dinner’s ready. Blossom made cauliflower tacos again.” 

“That sounds... _ interesting _ , Billy,” Mermista tried to feign enthusiasm. 

“Oh, trust me, they’re great. You’ll love them,” Harper’s enthusiasm was not feigned in the slightest, sounding absolutely hyped. He was speaking from experience, after all. 

“Well, the fixings’re on the table an’ getting cold. There when you want ‘em,” Looker explained. 

“Be right there!” Harper said excitedly. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t tell me you two are finally hittin’ it off?” Looker asked, teasing the other two. 

“Oh, uh…” Harper started, only to get cut off by the blue-haired Fleet Admiral. 

“We’re doing great. Could you give us another minute? We were in the middle of something,” Mermista asked, briefly glancing at Harper knowingly. The catboy felt himself blush yet again. 

“‘Course. I’ll save y’all some tacos. Have fun, you two,” Looker nodded before heading back inside. 

Harper was pretty excited for cauliflower tacos, but evidently Mermista had other plans for him. He was half expecting her to grab him by the shoulders and pull him into a bruising kiss, feeling as if that was where whatever this was was going. That never came to be, however. Instead, she simply flashed him some highly distinct bedroom eyes and leaned in close beside him, whispering something in his ear. 

“Me, you, Billy, your bedroom, tonight,” the naval commander backed away, smirking, “Be there or be square, Peach.” 

“Because I won’t be around?” Harper joked. 

“Wha--Is that what that’s supposed to mean? Oh my First Ones…” Mermista almost doubled over from laughing, the kind of laugh that sends milk up one’s nose. He hadn’t heard her make a noise like that this whole shore leave. “Oh, I love this evening. I’ll see you at dinner, dude.” 

Mermista picked up her empty mug and headed back inside, shooting Harper another sultry little Mona Lisa smile just as the door shut behind her. He was left out in the setting sun, mind racing and heart pounding. Rightfully so that it was pounding, given all the blood was rushing southwards. He wasn’t sure what he was hungrier for at this point. If he was being honest, probably not the tacos. 


	4. Bravo Zulu

Dinner time came and went, yet another taco night in a row of taco nights that no one in Harper’s apartment seemed to object to. Harper had never much cared for cauliflower before having Blossom’s tacos--which sounds like a euphemism but in this case was surprisingly not--but she’d really gotten him into it. Got him into a lot of things, come to think of it. Tonight, though, it seemed Looker’s tastes were the ones rubbing off on him. The sun began to set on New Cairo and the house divided into its separate groups, but not before a good solid number of suspicious little moments between Harper and Mermista. She’d ‘accidentally’ bumped into him perhaps one too many times, and every time he caught her looking at him she was giving him  _ that look _ again. One time, he swore she was biting her lip too. The message seemed pretty clear to Harper: the offer still stood.

He had been right about to go to bed, sitting on the edge of the futon in his oversized, long-sleeve pastel blue sleep shirt and tight-fitting pink boxers. After a little contemplation, however, he ended up confessing to Blossom about what Mermista seemed to have planned. He felt almost guilty about the confession, probably blushing so hard his fur was oxblood red the whole time, but he didn’t really know why. Blossom had slept with her too, after all. Still, he always liked to give lots and lots of heads-ups when he was about to have a hookup. 

“S-so that’s okay?” Harper brought his hand to the back of his neck. 

“Of course it is,” Blossom laughed, reclining on the futon with her head supported in her hand, “She’s such a switch. She’ll have a field day with you.” 

“Oh, uh, y-you think so?” Harper giggled, definitely blushing now. 

“Hell yeah. I’d be stupid to get in your way, deprive me of that fun little show.” 

“You won’t get lonely or anything, I hope.” 

“ _ What _ ? Of course not! I smuggled a little something out of our toybox before Looker and our fine houseguest called dibs on the bedroom. My little vibey and I will be  _ quite  _ content with this arrangement.” 

“Ooh! Is it the one shaped like a lipstick case?” 

“I was thinking more like a shotgun shell, but yeah,” Blossom raised herself up on one hand for a second, routing around under her pillow. She withdrew a stout, pocket-sized vibrator from under the cushion, the gadget’s chardonnay colour matching her nails. 

“Ah. That works too. You always come up with such fun descriptive words,” Harper snickered. 

“Well, you’re the aspiring author here, so my advice is that you’d better start taking notes,” Blossom teased. She leaned over and kissed Harper’s neck, making the catboy squeak and purr. “You go and have your fun with Looker’s torpedo and the Fleet Admiral’s airlock, now. I just have a couple of requests for you to keep in mind while you’re up there. They’re not set in stone or anything, I’m not gonna beat your ass if you don’t get around to them, just think of them as suggestions that would make me a very happy girl.” 

“Oh! That sounds exciting. Let’s hear them,” Harper let out another giggle, leaning into Blossom’s neck kisses even more. 

“Well, first of all, assuming Mermista doesn’t completely wear you out, I’d like to respectfully ask if you could come back down here and cuddle me when you’re done. I always sleep better after cuddles from my kittycat,” Blossom continued nibbling Harper’s neck, her hand dangerously close to his thigh, “And for the love of the First Ones, make some noise up there for me, will you? I know I gave you a hard time about how loud you like to get, but make no mistake, I find it very,  _ very  _ hot.” 

“I can work with that,” Harper smiled. 

“Great. Now quit wasting time and get up there. You don’t keep a lady like that waiting, you know what I mean?” Blossom teased. 

“I...think I do? I-I mean, I wouldn’t really know, but I have  _ some  _ idea. Like, I shouldn’t keep the Fleet Admiral waiting in the same sense that that English teacher my moms were having over shouldn’t keep  _ them  _ waiting. D-did I get that right? Am I getting that right?” 

“You’re getting that right.” 

“Alright! Off I go, then!” 

Harper rose to his feet, feeling a little excited but also a little nervous for this high-profile hookup he was about to embark on. On his way up, Blossom gave him a quick swat on the rear, getting a handful of tail and boxers and perfectly bouncy curves. He yelped, internally questioning for a moment whether the gesture was meant in encouragement, flirtation or both. It was appreciated nonetheless, however, and it did serve to motivate him for sure. Gingerly, he crept up the stairs towards the bedroom, second door at the top, just past the bathroom. The bathroom seemed to be occupied, meaning someone was either pissing or getting themselves dolled up. Maybe both. Both wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the Meowmeow-Andromeda-Glass household. 

Ever-so-slightly, with the teensiest amount of force focused in just the tip of his index claw, the ginger magicat nudged open the bedroom door. What he found waiting for him on the other side practically froze him in his tracks. It was probably a good sign, too, just showing how madly head-over-heels he was for Looker after two whole years of being his boyfriend. The blue blotter was sprawled out on the bed like a page out of a pinup calendar, shirt already on the floor and beautifully-toned washboard abs out on display. He had a book in his hands that Harper couldn’t discern the title of--to tell the truth, he wasn’t looking at the book--and his rectangular reading glasses over his eyes, looking unexpectedly scholarly. Harper was, in that moment, extraordinarily grateful to whatever cosmic scorekeeper there was that his boyfriend’s special interest was mechanics. All that work had taken its toll, not to mention his uncanny blotter double-jointedness. No shapeshifting, but the way he could touch Harper when he was behind him, rubbing himself against the catboy’s tail, just--

_ Okay, okay, you cut it out, you gay mess,  _ Harper internally cursed himself,  _ Save some for when you’re actually going at it.  _

"Oh, howdy, Peach. Didn't see you there," Looker gently set his book down, careful to slide the bookmark in between his current pages rather than leaving it open pages-down and bending the binding, then took off his readers, "What can I do you for? Reckoned you'd be in bed by now." 

Harper momentarily blanched, a little taken aback by Looker's seeming obliviousness to Mermista's flirtations with the catboy. Perhaps she hadn't discussed the plan with him yet? If that was the case, Harper couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. If his coming up here turned out to be merely foolhardy in the end, that would really only confuse him. Of course, it was totally the Fleet Admiral's choice if she changed her mind, but still it made Harper feel like he was bad at taking hints. That wasn't a trait exclusive to him, mind you, with Looker missing the odd social cue and even the insurmountable Blossom having her awkward moments, but it wasn't ideal for him.

“Y-yeah, umm, well, I was on my way there, but--” Harper stuttered, only for Looker to cut him off. 

“What? You need me to kiss you goodnight or something?” the blotter repairman teased, his voice like an audible wink. 

_ Not exactly, but you’re getting warmer,  _ Harper thought. 

“Well, see, th-the Fleet Admiral…” Harper still felt red in the face admitting to what he’d been propositioned for. What if Looker wasn’t comfortable with the three of them messing around?

“Yeah, what about her?” Looker asked. 

“Umm...I-I, uh, before I say anything, y’know, don’t take this the wrong way or anything…”

Looker had a quiet chuckle to himself, moving his readers and reading material off to the side of the bed and rolled himself upright. He sat on the side of the bed, legs hanging off the side, still clad in another pair of worn-out, oil-stained jeans. The parts of him that  _ were  _ exposed, though...oh, First Ones. Harper could honestly nerd out about every toned little angle of his boyfriend’s beautiful, sapphire-skinned body. His rigid abs, his firm, tree limb-esque arms, even his sculpted, prominent  _ collarbone... _ That was just his body, though. His yellow marble eyes, his rough toss of mousey hair, all of it was almost too breathtaking for Harper to handle. How did he ever somehow convince himself that he was straight? Like how, just how?

“You’re startin’ to fancy her, ain’t you, boy?” Looker questioned, grinning like an absolute idiot while looking rather mischievous. 

“Well, umm, yes, but I think she, uh, started to fancy me first,” Harper put his fingertips together, the redheaded catboy noticing that his claws were slightly extended. 

Looker shook his head, pushing up and rising from his seat on the bed. The mattress distorted and squished under his weight, the cords of his biceps temporarily squeezing ever-so-slightly outwards. Harper was extra careful to take in the sights, of course. He felt his tail begin to flick in curiosity, wondering why the blue blotter was getting up. Harper certainly knew why  _ he himself  _ was getting up, though, but that might be best saved for later. Even if there  _ was  _ a later. 

“What? And here I thought you had some kind o’ hangup about takin’ an older lady out for a roll in the hay. Said she was old enough to be your mother. Seems like such an unusual change o’ heart there, Harper dear,” Looker mused as he crossed the room, inching closer to his magicat boyfriend. 

_ Oh, he’s breaking out the first name,  _ Harper thought to himself as he gulped heavily,  _ He means business. Especially with the ‘dear’ on the end.  _

“H-hah. Well, y’know, it happens. I guess she has kind of a way with words or something. A-and her hair, her hair is pretty. So, y’know, I just thought I’d maybe…” Harper trailed off, noticing that Looker hadn’t halted his advance. He obviously couldn’t see it, but his eyes were dilating like crazy. 

“Thought you’d what? Just walk up here an’ slip her your ramrod?” Looker sounded almost accusatory, though it was certainly laced with some very playful undercurrents. Harper took note of how close his lover was now, close enough that he could see the faint peppering of dark hair across the middle of his pecs. 

“Oh, geez, when you put it that way--” 

“Don’t lie to me, boy. That’s what you’re after, ain’t it?” 

Harper sucked in a breath. The yellow of Looker’s eyes were two vicious little high beams, and he was a helpless, frozen faun. It didn’t help that the muscular blotter mechanic was now mere inches away from him, leaning forward ever-so-slightly. In an instant, his arm was behind Harper’s head, pressed against the wall behind him. The whole display was making Harper a bit nervous, yet at the same time he was beginning to feel some...stirrings. Those pink boxers of his were getting a little short on room. Good thing they were stretchy. 

“Y-yeah. It was,” Harper confessed, completely laid bare. 

“Good boy. Knew you’d come around sooner or later. See, there’s just  _ one  _ little problem with that, though…” Looker laughed to himself, bowing his head. The smirk he wore was almost as dangerous as keeping his shirtless body that close to Harper. “You still stepped outta line, y’see? The way you was talkin’, that ain’t no way to treat a lady, ‘specially the Fleet Admiral. Can’t have that, no.” 

“Looker, I-I’m sorry--” Harper whined, feeling more than a little shaky with anticipation. 

“Not sorry enough, Peach,” the blue machinist let his free hand fall to Harper’s thigh. It was calloused, faintly scaly, refreshingly cool against Harper’s thigh. The catboy faintly yelped at the sensation much to his boyfriend’s enjoyment. “See, here’s how this ol’ thing is gonna play out. ‘Fore you even get so much as a whiff of ol’ Star Hawk’s coyote on those foul-mouthed lips o’ yours, you’re gonna give daddy what he wants, you hear?” 

Harper had to hold back a moan, a quiet little kitten squeak that he just barely managed to keep down. The telltale rumbling of his purring rocked his chest, maddeningly hard to hold back. Looker was being serious with him, playing for keeps, busting out a title like that. Always did know just where Harper’s soft spots were, the catboy would give him that. That statement worked literally and metaphorically, either or. 

“O-okay,” Harper breathed. 

“Hmm? Peach, I don’t rightly think I caught that,” Looker sneered, his face inches away from Harper’s now. 

“Y-yes, daddy.” 

“ _ Beautiful _ . We understand each other. Ah, don’t you worry your pretty little rear, Harper. You just do as I say and you’ll be nuts deep in the Fleet Admiral before you know it. Now be a dear and let me do my thing, awright?” 

“Of course. Wh-whatever you want.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Oh, umm, whatever you want, daddy.”

“There, see? Ain’t so hard to learn some proper manners. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll throw in a treat for you, Peaches.” 

“Ohh, well, I better work extra hard then-- _ ah! _ ” 

Harper let out a high-pitched gasp, like air escaping from a damaged zeppelin. Looker’s hand had snaked its way further inwards, climbing across fur and fabric, until it reached Harper’s...well, his trouser snake. The blotter brunette didn’t tamper with the growing firmness in any way that would truly satisfy Harper, much preferring instead to simply tease him through the cloth of his undergarments with grab after gentle grab. Looker softly stroked the growing bulge in Harper's boxers enough to make him whine, the noise a wordless plea for his lover to give him more. A little rubbing against his underwear was great, sure, but he already wanted something a little more up close and personal. Just judging by the look on his mechanic boyfriend's face, though, he knew he wouldn't be getting payoff like that anytime soon. 

Harper was definitely repenting his early comments about Mermista now. Looker's teasing just wouldn't let up, his free hand still working Harper's bulge while the other supporting his weight. Every time Harper opened his eyes, the blue blotter sneered down at him, further adding to his all-consuming desire and frustration. The strawberry blonde magicat’s mouth hung open, his lips curled in an o-shape of a not-so-silent outcry. He wondered if looking at those lips would give Looker any ideas. Harper himself certainly had some ideas of his own, looking down at the sapphire-skinned hand rubbing against the pink bulge between his legs. His lithe, soft kitty body was pressed against the wall by Looker’s teasing hand alone, the strength almost shocking, all of it rocking his body with demands for further attention on his boy bits. 

“Fuck, William...daddy,  _ please _ …” Harper moaned, his back arched. His tail teased its way to Looker’s wrist, only for the blotter to swat it away. 

“My my, Peach, you’re awful needy, y’know that? And  _ mouthy _ , too. Kiss your moms with that mouth? Bein’ rude with me ain’t gonna get you nowhere…” Looker chuckled, “...And I haven’t even put you to work yet, boy.” 

“So put me-- _ fuck _ !--to work, jackass,” Harper hissed through gritted teeth, stumbling with his words as he felt the heat in his boxers rise.

“Oh, with that attitude? Gladly. You  _ really  _ need to learn some proper manners…” 

“ _ Then fucking show me _ !” 

Looker persisted in his strokes against Harper’s barely-clothed manhood, a tiny damp dot of precum soaking through the fabric around the area of the aperture in the ginger magicat’s manhood. Pretty soon, though, his hand began to slow and the strokes got fewer and further between. Harper winced, sighing in disappointment at not even being granted the small release he’d felt before. The catboy was about to object, about to snap out another expletive-laden bratty whinge, but he had a hand around the flowing reddish locks of his hair before he could say anything. It wasn’t  _ his  _ hand, just to clarify: it was definitely Looker’s, and he was yanking his boyfriend downwards by the length of his mane. 

“Get on your knees, sugar,” the blue blotter growled. The message was blunt, clear, not needing further elaboration. 

“Finally--” Harper rolled his eyes, resisting his boyfriend’s considerable strength for just a moment longer, only for the downward force on his long ginger mop to increase exponentially. 

“ _ Get. On. Your. Goddamn. Knees, _ ” Looker snarled through gritted teeth. A tone like that certainly got Harper extra hot and bothered, most certainly ready to be put to work. 

After gaining a further appreciation for Looker’s muscles past a purely aesthetic level, Harper relented as he tumbled to the floor, seated on the arches of his feet. The temptation to howl out more taunts was just there, barely on the tip of his tongue, but he found himself preoccupied with something else before he had the chance; it felt like something between anticipation and nervousness as he suddenly became aware of what Looker seemed to be doing, noticing where his hand went next. He had a sizable, prominent outline of his own bulge developing, something the ginger magicat was definitely happy to notice. 

“Let’s put that rude yap of yours to good use for once, shall we?” Looker asked, a rhetorical gesture that was truly nothing more than a taunt, a demonstration of both his own status as having the power and what he intended to do with it. 

The blotter mechanic undid his belt with just enough finesse and restraint that Harper had time to anticipate, to feel a sting of impatience at the fact that his mouth wasn’t full of dick. The zipping sound that followed made Harper’s ears perk up in a move that was almost Pavlovian, his mouth watering with memories of sucking on the sensitive flesh behind those little metal teeth. More images filled his head at a pace that soon became exceedingly rapid, visions of getting doused in different fluids and feeling warmth, wetness and stickiness all across his fur. Looker could be a very sweet man to love, but sometimes he just brought out the absolute worst in Harper; not that anyone involved seemed to care, he surmised, especially given the worst in the blue-skinned reptilian was coming out as well. Harper just hoped other things would be coming out of him soon as well. Momentarily, however, his prayers would be answered. 

“There now, Peach...be a dear and get goin’,” Looker purred as he slid the waistband of his undergarments down. 

Harper felt himself freeze up at his boyfriend’s length, always taking him a little off guard. The stiffened, blue-purple shaft bounced a little as it was freed from its confines, seemingly eager in its hardened state. It seemed a fairly fitting little gesture, even if it of course didn’t have nearly that much thought behind it. Most likely, anyways. The redheaded magicat’s eyes must’ve been the size of dinner plates at that point. He felt agape and frozen all at once, urging himself onwards to sate his hunger and take Looker in his mouth already, simply unable to move out of awe at his lover’s beauty. Harper was no slouch in terms of his own endowment (growing up with parents as overtly open and madly in love as his, the catboy definitely heard a lot about how well hung his cat mom was, so he supposed he had her to thank for that little gift), but Looker had a cock on him like an extended rifle barrel. The magicat writer spent what felt like an eternity admiring his lover’s erect manhood, looking onwards with his mouth agape and his fangs just barely over his lips until Looker couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“How much longer you gon’ sit there like some kinda Prosperan python on a hot rock? You need me to show you what to do or somethin’, boy?” Looker asked, his pelvis tilted forward ever so slightly. 

“Couldn’t hurt, daddy,” Harper said almost mockingly. 

“You’re as dull as rusted iron, Peaches.” 

“Is exactly what my cat mom would’ve said before dicking my space mom down. Really, it’s like calling people you find hot idiots might as well be Etheria’s planetary sport. So go on, show me.” 

“Oh, you yappy little shit…” 

Looker’s hand dug into Harper’s scalp again, taking a fistful of strawberry blonde hair like a rake among autumn leaves. A kitten-squeal left Harper’s lips in tandem with a faint, creeping smile, but his mouth was soon too occupied for it to be noticeable. Looker yanked the ginger magicat’s head forward by the length of his hair, the gesture one that Harper had hardly any choice but to yield before. He felt his lips first envelop the rounded purple bulb of Looker’s tip before engulfing his entire length, feeling like he’d had his mouth stuffed with a whole foot of cool, scaled meat. This was of little trouble to Harper, however. In the years following his admittance of his true self, he’d found that he could fit quite a lot of length in his jowls, be it from a boy, girl or otherwise. He let himself tighten his lips around Looker's yummy manhood, adjusting his jaw to ensure he didn't scrape any of the sensitive bits, and put himself to work. 

"Atta boy...good lil' barn kitty…" Looker purred, the yanking on Harper's hair temporarily subsiding as the blotter's fist unfurled into a loving stroke of his boyfriend's mop. 

Invigorated at Looker's praise, Harper wordlessly continued to orally pleasure his lover's sizable cock. The mechanic's girthy, filling shaft was a smooth, cool and delicious blue raspberry popsicle in Harper’s mouth, and the catboy was certainly angling for a frozen dessert. His continued movements up and down the reptilian boy’s length drew forward a quickly-rising chorus of soft moans from Looker’s dulcet pipes, the noise like rich caramel. The lovely sound simply urged Harper on even more, letting the hard member continue to fill his maw. The scent was amazing, the co-mingling of Looker’s cologne and sweat and engine grease and just...that unique smell his dick had, an aroma of its own like any other private parts. The catboy let out a soft moan and grabbed Looker’s ass with his freed-up hands, pulling himself in so close that his snout was stuffed against his lover’s pubic hair. His tongue swirled around the machinist’s glans, coaxing out another round of sweet little moans from him--for such a natural top, he sure was capable of some soft little whines, that was for sure--until he gently nudged Harper off of his manhood and tilted the magicat’s head upwards. 

“Mmm, good job, boy. You’ve got daddy all fired up, you hear?” Looker sighed. 

“D-don’t you want a little more? I-I’m so ready for you, daddy, I promise,” Harper moaned desperately, suddenly lusting after the idea of getting his mouth filled with Looker’s cream. A thin line of leftover drool hung limply from Harper’s eager lips, still connecting with his boyfriend’s firm purple head. 

“It’s okay, Peaches, it’s okay. You’ve done enough, and a damn good job to boot. Reckon you’ve earned a little something,” the blotter’s yellow eyes stared down at Harper mischievously, his hand back on Harper’s hair, stroking him from the small of his back to his ears. 

“J-just getting a taste of you would be enough,” Harper pleaded, “ _ Please,  _ William. I need it.” 

“Oh, you are--you are just the cutest, you know that?” Looker laughed almost mockingly, “How about a lil’ somethin’ else, though? I think you’ll love it.” 

“ _ William _ ... _ daddy _ \--” Harper whined, his verdant eyes darting between Looker’s grinning, stubbly face and his still-erect cock hungrily. 

“Okay, okay, tell you what. If you ain’t in the mood for it, I’ll let you keep...heh, running your mouth, so to speak. How’s that?” 

“It’s perfect,” Harper smiled, “You always know how to treat me right.” 

“Anything for my boy, ‘specially when he’s so well-behaved,” Looker planted a quick, gentle kiss on Harper’s forehead, then offered him a hand and helped him to his feet, “Now then...haven’t you noticed how damn drafty this doorway is?” 

“Y-yeah. The floor’s making my knees all cold, too,” Harper’s shoulders began to stiffen, “I’m freezing my butt off, come to think of it.” 

“Aww, hey, c’mere and I’ll warm you up,” Looker opened his arms, letting his boyfriend fall into them. His fur against Looker’s scales was warm, comforting, soft. It made him almost lose sight of what he truly had in store for the lithe, strawberry blonde-maned magicat. Almost. “You see the bed over there, sug’?” 

“Of course I do,” Harper murmured. 

“Maybe we both oughta get in it, since we’re so cold.” 

That’s when Harper figured it out. At least, he  _ thought  _ he’d figured it out. 

“You wanna--” he started. 

“Hey, if it ain’t what you’re hankering for, s’okay. Just tell me what you’re comfortable with,” Looker assured Harper, stroking the catboy’s hair. 

“Well, what I’m guessing you’re  _ hankering  _ for is tossing me on the bed and railing me until I scream into the pillows. Sound about right, daddy?” Harper asked. 

Looker’s blue face went pale, seemingly taken aback by his boyfriend’s bluntness. He swept a bit of his messy brown hair out of his eyes by shaking his head, still looking stunned. The mechanic stuttered and fumfered for a moment, sounding a bit like a broken record harbouring a track of staccato nonsense. Harper smirked, the smile invisible with his face still buried in Looker’s upper bicep. He was glad to have beaten the blotter at his own game. It was all making him feel like some sort of bratty power bottom fusion. Sure sounded pretty dangerous, that was for certain. 

“Damn, Peach. I wasn’t gonna put it so, er, graphically--” Looker stuttered. 

“But it’s what you want to do to me, right?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, that’s what I intended, but--” 

“Then what are you waiting for?” 

The commanding nature of Harper’s tone seemed to strike Looker utterly off-guard. Off-guard, however, didn’t seem to mean  _ unhappy.  _ Pretty soon, the cerulean-scaled reptilian boy was returning the very same wry grin Harper was wearing. Harper swore he caught the blotter’s tail perking up out of the corner of his eye, too. It was such a cute tail, really, though maybe not as waggly and finicky as Harper’s often was; the damn thing was a dead giveaway for whenever he was in a mood, not to mention all those times he subconsciously got the damn thing curled around his lovers’ wrists mid-handjob. Looker had to stop what he was doing the first time it happened because he was dying laughing. Harper had felt so damn embarrassed; right now, however, he very much wanted Looker to embarrass him more, and he wanted the bed to be the stage for that embarrassment. 

“Y’know what, boy? You’re right. How’s about you let me tuck you in?” Looker asked, as if Harper had a choice. 

“Sounds awfully cozy...I don’t think I’ll be doing much sleeping, though,” Harper giggled. 

“No, Peach. Don’t reckon you will. Not yet, anyways.” 

Looker tilted Harper’s chin up with his hand, fingers scratching gently against the auburn fur there, and let his lips find Harper’s. The kiss was almost twice as intoxicating as the feeling of sucking his manhood, and First Ones only knew why Harper was coming to that odd sensation. He supposed the intoxication wasn’t from the kiss itself but rather from anticipation of what was yet to come, feeling his areas south of the border already begin to quiver excitedly. He wanted to be filled, to have his legs wrapped around Looker’s strong waist, to run his hands along the sapphire tree-trunk of the mechanic’s chest and feel every ridge of the working, tensing muscle. And he absolutely couldn’t keep waiting. Thank the First Ones Looker didn’t intend to keep him waiting, then. 

He took hold of Harper's wrist and led him forward, begrudgingly breaking off the kiss out of mere necessity. Together, the boys headed for the bed, Harper dragged along by the width of his little wrists. It would be good to get out of the cold, though that would prove to be but the tip of the iceberg. By the time he was at the edge of the bed, covers brushing at his tail ever so gently, Harper felt his blotter lover's hand leave his wrist and come to his chest. With his admirable strength, Looker pressed against Harper's sternum and sent him falling to the bed, landing with a  _ whump _ . The catboy adored the gesture, settling into the mattress and giggling quietly to himself. 

There would be no more taunts from the handsome blotter mechanic; he was all action now, and that suited Harper just fine. Standing over the bed with his chest still bare, a faint outline of his hardened manhood visible through his still-undone jeans, Looker took hold of his boyfriend’s undergarments and tore them straight off rather impatiently. A wry, satisfied grin overtook his face as his yellow marbles darted quite obviously down to Harper’s own length, beginning to stand at attention in anticipation. He knew full well that Looker would take care of that, or at least he hoped he would. That was assuming he even needed further care after taking a good dicking, though. 

Temporarily hiding his face behind the baggy sleeves of his robin egg-blue top, Harper’s big ears listened intently as Looker rustled about in the nightstand. He likely wouldn’t have needed to actually see what it was Looker was searching for to identify it; it was all so painfully obvious. When his eyes returned to the room, Harper saw his boyfriend standing over him with two items that filled him with trembling glee. In one hand was a bottle of water-based lube, the special kind of lube they bought specifically for anal use to be precise. In the other, he held a set of condoms, as if he was too impatient to tear one off the chain. 

“You just let yourself lie back and get comfy now, alright Peach?” Looker said in some diction between a demand and a request. 

“Aww, and what if I don’t? What if I need an extra pillow?” Harper sneered playfully. 

“Trust me, boy. You won’t need one where you’re goin’.” 

“That so? Care to hurry up and show me?” 

“Careful now. Keep that up and I might change my mind.” 

“Yeah, right. With that  _ wrench _ in your pants still needing to be taken care of?” 

“You are…” Looker laughed dryly to himself. Harper swore he heard the cap on the lube pop open. “You are fun. And not wrong, I reckon.”

“That’s what I thought-- _ ah! _ ” Harper smirked to himself in smug reassurance, only to feel something cold and wet rub against his rear opening. He gasped in shock at the feeling, like he’d just jumped into a swimming pool. 

He felt Looker run a couple of smooth digits, index and middle fingers, along the length of his inner rear. They found his rim, ensuring the aperture received the lion’s share of the spreading lube, and gently teased around the opening. Harper gasped as he felt one finger and then the other slide inwards, coaxing him into a more open and accessible state, and then withdrew. The feeling was phenomenal and he prayed everything was relatively clean enough down there, anticipating what was coming next in the procession. Soon enough, he would have it. 

There was the sound of foil tearing, followed by Looker muttering to himself and finally emitting a tiny noise of self-accomplishment. Harper found it hard not to savour the small things before sex, everything from the sounds of condoms being rolled on to noticing the lighting in the room. It was pitch dark outside, but the rosy glow of the nightstand lamp drummed up perfect ambience. His observations were brought to an abrupt--but not unwelcome by any stretch--halt as he felt something slide into his opening, finding himself gasping yet again at the newfound, pleasurable pressure. Looker’s member found hardly any resistance as it found Harper’s rear entryway, the copious amounts of lube ensuring a smooth slide inwards. The catboy hid himself with his oversized sleeves again, hoping to find some way to mute his mewing moans. 

“ _ William...William, I’m so ready for you… _ ” Harper whined. 

“Mhm, that’s what I like to hear,” Looker grunted as he began to find his rhythm, “Fret not, Peaches. You’ll-- _ ah _ \--get what’s comin’ to you.” 

“I damn well better... _ mmm, William… _ ”

Harper’s claws unfurled, lightly digging into the bedsheets as he felt himself fill up. His lover’s formidable manhood pistoned in and out of his rear slowly at first, gradually beginning to speed up its pace in tandem with several warm, guttural grunts from Looker. Harper wanted to feel his hot breath against his fur, to hold him by the waist and show him how he wanted to be fucked. Already his cock was hitting all the right spots, sending sharp and sudden shocks all throughout his nimble frame. It took barely any time to get Harper screaming, his face buried in his sleeves as he curled his naked legs around Looker’s waist; gently, he nudged his legs in sync with Looker’s pumps, intensifying the feeling of the blotter mechanic’s ramrod in his ass. 

“ _ Oh, fuck... _ I-is there any chance you can come a little closer?” Harper asked, voice shaky and breathy, as he reached up to grab Looker’s shoulder. 

“Well, ain’t you sweet? I guess the view might be better from down there, at any rate…” Looker joked, letting himself get pulled further down until his stubbly blue face was mere inches from Harper’s neck. 

Practically everything was so fucking perfect now. Harper’s cries only intensified as he pulled his boyfriend in closer, at long last getting to run his hand along every toned inch of his faintly-scaly body, tracing his way from the small of his back to the groomed tufts of hair in front. The two of them made eye contact amidst the thrusting and the scents and the cool, damp messiness and Harper swore he almost let out an actual howl. Those little yellow marbles were all the more perfect now, full of mischief and longing as Looker continued to push himself all across Harper’s sensitive areas. They kept at it like that for a while, their lovemaking explosively punctuated by the ginger magicat’s loud mouth while Looker simply kept at his quiet, sexily stoic grunting and panting, until there came a squeak on the outside floorboards. 

Harper’s ears flicked. Someone was in the hallway. Not that Looker seemed terribly bothered about it, continuing to slam away much to Harper’s satisfaction. He let his head fall gently to the side, looking now away from his lover’s beautiful eyes and off towards the doorway, only for the sight there to simultaneously shock and relieve him. There, standing apparently undressed and looking about as aloof, sophisticated and even hardassed as ever, was the Fleet Admiral herself. 

“You get him all warmed up for me, Billy?” Mermista asked, voice a low growl that almost resonated with Looker’s. His was a bit more coarse, of course, but he was sort of dicking his boyfriend down. 

“Oh! Howdy, Star Hawk! Y-yeah, he should be ready right about now. Be careful with this one, he-- _ rrgh _ \--kicks like a stallion. Bit of a brat, too…” Looker snarled out with a bit of difficulty. 

“Excuse me, a  _ bit _ ? Heh, I must not be-- _ ohh _ \--trying hard enough, then,” Harper teased, though in truth he didn’t want to say a single solitary thing. His mind was merely preoccupied with how damn good it felt to get rammed. 

“See what I mean? Hopeless,” Looker joked, his glances across the room staggered and distracted, all his attention seemingly unable to be pried away from Harper. The redheaded magicat did adore being the centre of attention. 

“Don’t be such a quitter, Billy. We’ll break him in yet,” the Fleet Admiral crossed the room, just barely visible out of the corner of Harper’s dazed, lopsided eyes. She came to stand at the other side of the bed, opposite Looker and Harper. The naval commander was...quite nude, and she had a belly button piercing by the looks of things too. 

_ Wait, why was that the first thing that caught my eye? _ Harper thought to himself, briefly distracted from the amazing pressure between his thighs,  _ I mean, her lady parts look pretty awesome too. Blue carpet to match the drapes, fuck yeah. _

“You sure about that, ma’am? I don’t reckon you know Harper like I do,” Looker choked out, utterly undeterred from pistoning in and out of his boyfriend despite making conversation. 

“Oh, yeah. Listen, I didn’t spend over twenty years of my life being the greatest starship commander in the ‘verse just to back down from a little challenge,” Mermista bent over, hands on her knees, looking directly into Harper’s half lidded eyes, “So you get kinda bratty, eh Peach?” 

“Y-yeah, what-- _ oh, William, just like that _ \--uh, excuse me. Wh-what of it?” Harper moaned. His fists were clenched into the bedsheets, sweat making his shirt stick to his fur. 

“Meh. I bet I can shut you up. I have ways.” 

“The hell you do, lady!” Harper teased, “Not even Looker could pull that off, what makes you so special?” 

“Y’know, kid, there are ensigns who’ve faced court martial over less...I’d be careful if I were you,” Mermista playfully chided. 

Harper rolled his eyes. Truthfully, they were actually beginning to refocus a bit, and he was somewhat glad they did. His view of her womanhood, her curves, her night sky-coloured hair was clear as day. Coupled with Looker’s continued pressing of everything including his p-spot and Harper felt himself stand so firm it made him want to scream; he’d been in some interesting escapades over the years, but this was easily one of the hottest. He needed both of them, wanting a furious and thorough ravishing. Why had he ever been so callous as to dismiss the Fleet Admiral over her age? 

“Good luck court martialing-- _ mmm _ \--a civilian, dumbass,” Harper sneered up at Mermista, his head tilted practically all the way back. He wanted a good view, after all, and it sure did pay to be as flexible as he was. 

“Whatever. Had something a little different in mind for you. Guess I should’ve mentioned I never court martialed the ones as cute as yourself,” the Fleet Admiral put a hand on her hip, tilting herself in such a way that Harper was practically a drooling idiot for her. Fingers crossed he didn’t get too eager and blow his load this early. 

“Betcha I can handle it,” Harper singsonged, hoping his goading would get to her eventually. 

“Famous last words, Peach. What do you think, Billy? Should I…?” Mermista turned her attention to Looker. She had her hands resting on the mattress, cleavage dangling over Harper in a move that couldn’t have been more transparently teasing. 

“Give ‘em hell, Star Hawk. Show the boy what you-- _ urgh _ \--showed me,” Looker smirked knowingly. 

Mermista simply nodded. Harper felt his ears perk, his tail twitch, his fur ruffle and faintly dimple with gooseflesh underneath. Whatever that meant, it had to be good. Hence why Harper intended to just coax his bedfellows’ evil plan out of them as soon as possible, utilizing the only tactic he knew. He didn’t know this, of course, but in truth he got it from his cat mom. 

“Yeah? You got something to show me, skipper? Something you picked up on Ahriman?” Harper grinned a fanged, toothy, mischievous grin in Mermista’s direction, all of it an elaborate taunt. 

“Mmm, close. Sobek Prime. Yeah.  _ That  _ Sobek Prime,” Mermista returned Harper’s goading glance, eyeing him up in ways he very much liked. 

“ _ Ohh,  _ I’m so scared! Do your worst you-- _ mmmphfuck… _ ” Harper’s taunts were abruptly silence, and First Ones fucking dammit was he glad about it. 

He’d definitely expected the Fleet Admiral to be no slouch in bed, but to be this... _ forthcoming  _ was simply a lovely surprise. While Harper was still prattling away with his snarky comments, Mermista slid herself forward onto the bed faster than a ship in FTL and...well, definitely shut Harper up, that's for certain. Her pussy was on his face, ensuring he couldn't get another word in edgewise beyond a few muffled grumbles. And, considering how good she tasted and smelled after having to wait so long for her, that suited the redheaded magicat just fine. 

"Well," Looker laughed, "That definitely made him settle down." 

"Damn right it did. Well, Peach, get to-- _ mmm _ \--work," the blue-haired naval commander gave a quick tap to Harper's shoulder. He was already lightly working at her and it was getting to her. Just lightly. 

Pretty soon, however, Harper's sucking became decidedly not light. His coordination was ever-so-slightly impeded in such a compromising position, but it brought some advantages; nevermind how fucking intoxicating it was having the Fleet Admiral’s womanhood smothering his senses, filling all of his faculties with her scent and taste. Undaunted--encouraged, even--Harper pressed his face inwards, tongue tracing its way along her folds maddeningly, bringing his lips around her clit and sucking the sensitive bean occasionally. Just enough to keep her on her toes, of course: he didn’t want this to be over too soon and he had a gut feeling that neither would she. Fairly soon he was lapping her up with his whole face, moving not just his tongue but his neck as he continued to gladly let his face get used as a seat. 

“He sure knows what he’s doing, I’ll give him that,” Mermista moaned, hips faintly bucking further across Harper’s visage. 

“He damn well better,” Looker grunted in further exertion, still pounding away at Harper’s sensitive rear-facing love tunnel. 

“Maybe-- _ ah, oh fuck _ \--he needs a little incentive...a reward for his good behaviour,” the ultramarine-haired commander suggested. 

Harper couldn’t see what was going on, but what he felt was definitely a loose fist curling around his erect member. He didn’t know whether it was Looker’s or Mermista’s, but it didn’t matter much to him; after all, he had a job to do for his newfound lover. Feeling how soaked his face was with her nectar, the ginger magicat only felt further compelled to quicken the pace of his rough tongue’s deep licking. He heard Mermista suddenly gasp out, followed by an uncharacteristic sequence of oddly-vulnerable whimpering. It filled him with a unique sense of pride, bringing such a leviathan historical legend as the Fleet Admiral herself to her knees in a figurative sense. For a moment, he found himself wondering whether or not cat mom ever felt like this when she was dick-deep in space mom before immediately bleaching his brain of that not-so-pleasant mental image; it was bad enough he’d walked in on that way too many times, anything that brought the image back was just... _ yuck. _ It was a good thing it was so easy to put any intrusive thoughts aside right now, though, between the action of pleasuring Mermista itself and her amazing, sweet-sour flavour. Seriously, it was sorta overpowering, as if she literally aged like a fine wine. 

“ _ Mmm _ , yeah, keep at it, you dirty boy…” the Fleet Admiral’s voice exuded a level of playful venom Harper found deeply satisfying, “...Keep at it and I’ll let you cum, you little shit.” 

Well, he couldn’t very easily argue with logic like that. Face-sitting didn’t leave much room for subtlety, but Harper nonetheless danced his tongue across Mermista’s lady flower in a clumsy-but-effective zigzag, again stopping to suck her nub occasionally. She was screaming just as she was every other night as of late, only it wasn’t Looker’s name on her lips: it was  _ Harper’s. _ The commander wasn’t just sitting on Harper’s face at this point either, rather  _ riding  _ it in a steady, punishingly graceful thrust. His face was drenched in her wine, his butt still getting pounded in all the right places, his manhood trembling with sensitivity as it was rapidly stroked. He couldn’t take it anymore, and neither could she. The two of them howled into the rosy-tinted ambience of the bedchambers, Harper’s climax throes wetly muffled for obvious reasons, his melting point further solidified by the geyser of cum he felt course through his length and stain his shirt. Looker needed a few more pumps, evidently, but pretty soon he was joining in on the fun; he tended to make some fairly ridiculous (but endearing) high-pitched wails when he came, so it was kind of obvious. 

“ _ Billy...Harper...Fuuuuuuck…” _ Mermista managed to choke out between mid-orgasm outcries, “H-he’s a keeper, this one…” 

The three of them rather messily disengaged, Harper wiping the cum off his body with the edge of the blanket and Looker running to the bathroom to pitch the condom. When the cleanup was done, the lovers fell back on the mattress, thoroughly thrashed from the night's energy expenditures. The Fleet Admiral had her arms around both of her boys, Harper fully appreciating just how smooth her skin was. Also, her belly button piercing had a tiny spaceship on it, and that was cute. 

"Well, guys, this has been fun--and, uh, miss Mermista, ma'am, your reputation is well-deserved--but I gotta get going. Promised Blossom I'd come cuddle her after I was done...erm…" Harper explained sleepily. 

"Fuckin'?" Looker suggested. 

"I...was not gonna say that…but yes," Harper giggled, starting to get up. 

"Aww, leaving so soon? And here I was hoping for round two," Mermista groaned with disappointment that  _ may  _ have been played up a bit. 

"That's--Uh, that's very tempting, not gonna lie," Harper laughed again, equal parts intimidated and questioning if his refractory period was  _ really  _ as long as he thought it was, "Let's just say I owe you." 

"I'll hold you to that, Peach. Got a long memory," Mermista sneered, then reached for the night stand, "Whatever, I gotta make a phone call. You'll still cuddle me, right Billy?" 

"Most certainly, Star Hawk. Maybe a little somethin' else if you've got a hankering for it," Looker tightened his embrace of his lover, getting extra cozy in the bed. Harper honestly wanted to stay with them, seeing them all cuddled up and teasing each other with possible further encounters, but he always kept good on a request to Blossom. 

"Sounds like you read my mind, grease monkey," Mermista sighed, content, "Have a good night, Harper." 

"You too, Fleet Admiral, ma'am," Harper did a quick salute before heading into the hallway. 

The strawberry-haired magicat headed back down the hall towards the stairs, eager to curl up with Blossom and tell her all about his night. Back in the bedroom, door left ajar for now and the entirety of the night’s revelry, Harper could hear Mermista talking on her communicator. What she said made him blush and freeze midway down the stairs. 

“Adora, yo! You’re not gonna believe what I just did,” Mermista laughed dryly, “Well, more like  _ who  _ I just did.” 

Harper had to have a laugh of his own, trying too hard not to think about the teasing texts his moms would volley his way tomorrow. He scaled his way down the stairs with a few creaks and moans until he was back across from the living room, his half-scorpioni girlfriend seemingly sleeping peacefully on the futon. The catboy sighed, figuring he’d regale her tomorrow. He made his way to the futon, sliding into the covers for some hard-earned R&R just as he lay down, however, he felt a familiar, strong embrace throw itself around him. 

“That was…” Blossom whispered, “...so fucking hot.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S/o to PwiPwiPoo for no reason in particular except that they're a good creative mind who could use your love and support right now. Finding Her is my favourite AU of all time and deserves all your attention.


End file.
